Bound
by Anlynne
Summary: Hermione remembered the night the letter came with clarity... It changed her life forever.
1. Chapter 1

There is no copyright infringement intended.

Chapter One

Bound

Hermione remembered the night with clarity. It was raining in sheets outside, cracking thunder, and bolts of white hot energy across the sky. It knocked out the Muggle electricity. With her wand she lit the many lamps, and candles around the house. It was small, a one story. Perfect for Draco, and Hermione, of course they picked it out together three months in their relationship. Draco opted for a bigger house, but Hermione saw it as a waste of perfectly good money. He gave in, as he usually did with her.

Their love story was boring, typical. A year after the war she ran into the young Malfoy in a quaint Muggle coffee shop. It was a shock for both of them, especially for her, but when he paid for her mocha they sat together for hours trading stories, laughing, and flirting. It was surprisingly easy to fall in love with him. As easy as breathing. He had changed much since his school days, he hated his past, what he done, how he saw things, he covered up his Dark Mark tattoo with a black band, and donated tons of money to earn a good name.

It was just as easy telling her friends, at least it was after she saw how they took the news. All except Ron were okay with it leaving the Hogwarts days behind them. Ron agreed to tolerate it, and that was as good as she could hope for.

Five months they had been living together. They fought, but most of the time it was blissful. Who knew in one stormy night her world would come crashing down?

Every Friday after work, her, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Luna, and Neville got together. That day they met at Ron's bachelor pad. She was in a rush that morning, and didn't have time to read the Daily Prophet, she had court cases, and no one could get a word in. Harry, and Ron were called in early for an emergency (they worked as Aurors). Ginny went into Quidditch training before the mail was even delivered. Luna rarely read her mail from the Ministry. Something about... Hermione didn't listen to her explanation. Neville had a hard time getting to that mail before Luna burned it, but he saw it as a challenge, and he tended to borrow someone's copy at Hogwarts where he worked as the Herbology Professor. None of them stopped by home to know. Ron didn't check his when they came in.

So they were all finding out at the same time... The candle's light flickered across the page.

_In Regards To: Ms. Granger,_

_A new law has been voted in place by the Department of Magical Law at nine 'o clock this morning. As it so states we are to match Muggle-borns, and Half-bloods to Purebloods. The matchings are of the decision of said department. The couple must marry within a year, and have a child within five years. This is mandatory._

_This law is to insure a greater population, and keep preferences of blood void, so that our community can continue to thrive, and grow._

_Your future marital partner is: Blaise Leonardo Zabini_

_We at the Department of Magical Law apologize for any inconvenience._

_Sincerely, Margaret Keane - Head of Department of Magical Law_

Tears began to blot, and smear the shaking page. She reached, and touched Draco's, unopened. She recoiled, and ran a hand through her wild cinnamon hair.

As she let the formal letter fall to the table, the front door burst opened. She didn't look up, she knew who it was. Working late as an Auror (much to Ron's chagrin) he must've heard.

"Hermione," he called, his shoes squeaking on the tile kitchen floor. He stopped in the doorway. In his haste he probably disapparted, and done so a mile from the house. It was the only way to explain his drenched clothes, dripping a puddle at his feet. He looked more washed out than usual. "Hermione," he gasped rushing to her side as she buried her face into his soaked robe, the cold making her shiver. "Shhh, love, calm down."

"D-did you t-talk with them?"

"It was difficult. So many are angry. It was sudden. Nobody knew about this."

"They can't do this!"

"They are..."

"Y-you're a P-pureblood. Why..." She couldn't finish. She hiccupped.

Draco suddenly stiffened. "I... I wasn't chosen for you?"

"N-no..."

He held her tighter. "They said they matched as they saw fit... Being an ex-Death Eater, and you one of the Golden Trio... They thought we would kill before marry no doubt."

"T-tell them that we w-wouldn't. It's a mis-misunderstanding."

"You're a lawyer, Hermione, you know that it's a done deal." His voice shook. "I... We'll find a way... W-who did you get?"

"Zabini." She lifted her face to catch his reaction. He was smiling.

"Blaise. It's okay, he'll help. He's a good man. My best mate, you know."

"He's my... Fiancé," she cringed. "How are you okay with this?"

"It's not like you'll have to live with him. You won't be tied emotionally. You won't sleep with him."

She bit her lip. He didn't know... "Draco... We have to... To... Make a baby."

"This is the wrong time to joke, love."

Without a word she handed him her letter. She watched as his face transformed. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Sadness. Shaking. A tear, one drop mixing with the clouds own. He threw it to the side grasping her to his chest. "I'll find a way," he swore.

She didn't see how, and she didn't want to hurt him further by being negative. Instead she smiled crookedly handing him his letter. He let her go to open it. His eyes narrowed.

"There weren't enough Muggle-borns. They chose someone who loves them instead."

"Who?"

"Ginerva Weasley," he read. "The Weaslette. Potter's girlfriend." He sneered.

"Oh no..." Her best friend - in terms of girls.

"This can't be happening."

The lights flickered back on then as if light would cause them to see the truth. The truth was simple. Draco, and Hermione were being made to marry their loves best friends. What a very messed up situation.

Immediately the phone rang causing Hermione, and Draco to jump in surprise. Hermione rushed to the phone wondering which of her friends were calling first. She guessed Ginny. She was right.

"Hermione! Did you get your letter?!"

"Yes..."

"Malfoy, Hermione! We hate each other! I hate him! I'm sorry, I know he's your boyfriend, but really, they can't do this! I'll kill him, I will!"

Hermione's voice was dead. She wasn't processing it all correctly. "Who does the other's have?"

"Oh, you won't believe this! Harry has Luna! Neville has Penelope! Ron has Hannah! Oh, it's just horrible! They can't do this! They can't _make_ us!" She sobbed, it caught Hermione off-guard. Ginny rarely cried. Her heart went out to her "Can't you do anything?"

"I'm not in that department -"

"You're a lawyer -"

"For magical creatures."

"You deal with anti-Muggle laws. You have changed so much..."

"This isn't my department. My status means nothing."

"I can't marry him! I can't have his... _Child_. I can't do this... And Harry... How can I... He... I... We..."

"Where is Harry? Do you want me to come over?"

"He's here... I think he's in hysterics, he won't stop saying her name - Luna's. It's a mess here... There's no need for you to come over."

"Does the others know yet?"

"Everyone. Unplug your phone line, okay? I'll tell everyone the news. Nothing else for me to do until Harry snaps out of it."

"Thank you, Ginny."

"I'll see you soon, Hermione."

The moment she put the phone down, it rung once, and she roughly pulled the line out of the jack.

Draco tugged on his baby-soft blond hair. He sat hunched over in one of the kitchen chairs. "How did I get the Weaslette? Potter has to have some influence, doesn't he?"

"No... It's not his department, you know that."

"But he's _Potter_."

"That doesn't matter..."

He looked up sharply, his eyes glazed menacingly. "_Now_ it doesn't matter? After all the bloody years his gotten his way he can't find a way out of this? When it's important!"

Slowly she crossed the distance between them sitting herself in his lap. "Are you admitting you can't think of a way out of this law?"

He smirked. "You're the genius here, Hermione. If anyone can, it's you."

She frowned. So did he. "I'm sorry, Draco. This is..."

"I know... We could try running. We could move out of country..."

"We can't escape this... It's international surely, and they'll find us. I don't think Harry would appreciate trying to find us."

"Potter can help. Keep the others off our trail."

"Draco," she wept desperately.

"I know," he said again. "There's no escaping this... Not forever..."

She kept his face as a vise in her hands. "I love you. Always you. No one else. If it was my choice, you would be the one. I only want to marry you. It's your children I want to have. Not Blaise's. Not anyone's."

He caught her face the way she did his. "I love you too. There will never be anyone else. I'd love to marry you. No one will be replacing you. It's not possible." He searched her eyes. "Marry me, Hermione."

She wiped a stray tear as he caught another with his thumb. "It's too late."

"No, it's not. In that..." He struggled not to curse. "Letter," he forced out. "They are talking about legal marriage. Marriage is about love, it's about tying yourself to someone emotionally for the rest of your lives. What we all will be forced into can hardly be called a marriage. Marry me first."

"It won't be legal."

"But it will be _real._ Please..." He didn't wait for her answer, he pulled her to her feet disappearing out of the kitchen calling behind his shoulder for her to wait where she was.

Flabbergasted she leaned to the right hoping to catch a glimpse of where he was going down the hall. She heard some banging around. She could imagine the mess he was making, but it hardly bothered her. Her curiosity got the best of her making her wait instead of investigating the mess, and Draco always cleaned up any he made on the occasions that he did at all.

When the banging ceased he was running into the kitchen again, his fists clenched. He stood still in front of her holding his fist in the empty space amid them. He opened it, and in his palm was a silver diamond encrusted wedding band, and a matching man's ring. "They were my parents," he explained as he gave her the man's band.

It was warm from his hold. It was beautiful. Expensive. Meaningful. She looked into his light gray eyes as he looked into her chocolate brown ones.

He captured her left hand, and breathed deep. "Hermione Jean Granger... Do you take me as your husband?"

Happy tears leaked from the crinkles of her eyes. "Yes."

He slid the band on, a smile stretched across his otherwise distressed face.

In turn she took his left hand. "Draco Lucius Malfoy... Do you take me as your wife?"

"Yes."

She slid the band on, both of their hands shaking, this time for different reasons.

Before she could take a breath he circled his arms around her waist pulling her against him. His lips on hers set off a fire that burned everywhere. She would miss that feeling. She would miss him, his musky scent, and the way he hogged the covers at night.

Hermione had to focus on the positive. They've touched a place that Zabini, and Ginny can't even if they wanted to. Draco would be Hermione's, and she would be his. She could never tie herself to Zabini the way she did him. The Ministry couldn't change that. As far as they were concerned _that_ was their wedding. She would be _his_ wife, and he would be _her_ husband.

It didn't help her insides from screaming. It didn't help the break down she was secretly having. She had to be strong. If she broke down on the outside she might give the attempt at leaving with him, and that could only end with them in Azkaban. It wasn't worth it. They would see each other. They would be together somehow, even if they were bound legally to someone else. Oh how that pained her.

* * *

A/N: Marriage Law fics have been run into the ground, but I hope you give this a chance anyhow. I think it's a bit different in a lot of ways.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

An Idea Worth Keeping

Doing things the Muggle way helped, it kept Hermione from thinking too much. She fixated on the plates, on scrubbing. It was difficult as her hands were trembling yet again. She dropped, and broke three plates, two mugs, and a bowl. Draco finally came in from the lounge to lead her away, cleaning the mess with a flick of his wand, and set the brush to do the rest of the dishes.

Hermione fell into a chair. "I have so much to do," she mumbled. "The walls, the floors, vacuum..." She wasn't cleaning the house because Zabini, and Ginny were coming by. It was only to keep her mind off of what they were going to be discussing.

"The house is fine, it's clean." Draco knelt in front of her taking her hands in his. "Relax, it'll be all right. You don't have the worst partner. Blaise will take care of you. If anyone has the short end of the stick it's me. I might not live through this engagement, Ginny might hex me." He flinched, "I've seen her hexes too. That bat-boogey." He shuddered. "At least Blaise won't be making plans of murdering you."

She laughed, she couldn't help it. She hugged him resting her cheek on his. "Don't worry, I'll talk with Ginny. She'll keep you alive for me."

"Gee, thanks. Will she not hex me then either? I like my face the way it is."

"I'm afraid your vanity will take a hit, it would be asking her too much not to hurt you, but don't worry, I'll still love you."

A smirk flickered, but was quickly lost. "Curse my curiosity, but how are the others taking this?"

She gazed down at their joined hands sadly. "Harry, and Ginny said their goodbye's last night. Neville is visiting his parents a lot, and Luna is gone on a short expedition in Wales. They've accepted it as well as they can... Ron is only grieving his loss of 'freedom' as he calls it."

Then the doorbell played a short sickeningly happy tune. A gift from George when they moved in. Sort of. They changed it from the echoing shrill he put in, but it didn't turn out as well as they hoped, and they gave up trying to fix it. They could've asked George to do it himself, but he called them rude for not accepting a perfectly acceptable gift. Only George would think such a thing was acceptable.

Draco helped Hermione up, and together they went to answer the door. He gave a squeeze of her hand before he opened it.

On the porch they stood solemn. Zabini in a crisp black suit. He looked handsome, dark skin, hair, and eyes, a strong jaw, and nose. Passively he nodded to her in acknowledgement. His eyes didn't meet hers.

A foot from him was Ginny, and Hermione was taken-aback. Darkness highlighted her light brown eyes, her vivid hair like a raging fire. She was deathly pale. She didn't meet her eyes either.

Draco, and Hermione stepped aside to let them in offering their sofa which they sat on either end. Hermione made her way towards the kitchen for the tea she made early that morning, but Draco grabbed her arm pulling her back. "Sit," he ordered.

She did as he said in the one of two chairs across from the sofa. She couldn't argue with him, she had broken a lot of their dishes, and that tea-set was expensive, not that it mattered to Draco who had inherited everything from his parents when they died in the war, he had more money than even he knew what to do with.

Hermione fingered the ring absentmindedly. Zabini noticed, she saw him glance over to her hands, but he didn't say anything.

Gently Draco sat the tray on the coffee table, offering tea to them, but they both declined with short waves of no thanks. Shrugging he sat in the cushioned seat next to Hermione.

She counted silently. They were silent for a full minute. Hermione crossed, and uncrossed her legs several times. Then Zabini spoke.

"I think we should get married as soon as we can. Just get it over with."

Ginny glared at Draco. "We'll wait to the last available _second_." It was a demand not left for questioning, or debate.

Draco glowered at her in return, but Zabini ignored it as if nothing was said. He looked to Hermione for the first time, remorse, and pain etched in the worried lines on his face. "What do you want, Hermione?"

She mentally staggered. It was the first time he used her given name. Of course, what was the point of using their surnames? "Blaise," she started testing how the name sounded. It wasn't half-bad. "I think we should get it over with. Next Wednesday will do." She had no hope that the Ministry would change its mind, thus there was no point in waiting around.

"Next Wednesday it is then. Do you want a wedding? I mean the whole flowers, dresses, cake bit."

"No."

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "Do you have hope that in the future we'll be given a choice?"

"No."

"Then don't you want a wedding? It might be your only chance to do it up right."

"Forgive me, Blaise, but doing it up right with the wrong... Someone I didn't choose doesn't make sense."

"Everything is in your hands. Whatever it is you want, you can have it."

"I had that right taken from me yesterday," she said bitterly.

"I mean in regards of a wedding, of purchases. Anything you want is yours." He fished inside of his jacket withdrawing a thin card, and a slip of paper. "I'm sure you know what these are. A Muggle credit card, and that paper will get you into my Gringotts vault. Not just for the wedding, but for... Here."

"I don't want your money. I have my own."

He chuckled, "I'm sure, but..."

"You feel guilty."

"I feel that what they're making us do is unethical. So many are going to lead very unhappy lives because of it. As Draco's friend, and your future husband I'll do what I can to make you happy. I will not treat you any different than I would if I loved you." He held out the credit card, and paper. "Take it. Do with it what you like."

She sighed, and reached across taking them. She shoved them in her pocket. She didn't have to use them. Correction: She wouldn't.

Draco turned to Ginny uncomfortably. "About us -"

"There is no us," Ginny snapped. "There is me, and then there is you. Us being..." She blanched. "Married is irrelevant."

"However you want to look at it. What is it that you want?"

"Harry..."

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Do you want a wedding?"

"No! We will wait until the last second, we will see if the Ministry will change its mind, it if doesn't we will be tying the knot in an office. No decorations, no music, no dancing, no cake, no rings..." She trailed off as she caught sight of his left hand lying leisurely on the armrest of the chair. "What is that?"

"It's a wedding band," he replied dryly, "but take it easy Weaslette it represents my bind to Hermione. We had our private ceremony last night."

"Ceremony," she asked dubiously.

"We'll follow the laws to keep ourselves out of Azkaban, but as far as we're concerned she's my wife, and I'm her husband. What we have to do... That is irrelevant, as you yourself have pointed out."

"I thought I recognized those rings," Blaise said. "They're your parents, right?"

"Yes."

Tears of anger, or sadness (Hermione couldn't tell) sprung in Ginny's eyes. Without warning she leapt from the couch, and ran out the front door slamming it behind her. The rest of them stared at each other with wide eyes.

"Think you should go out there, mate?"

"What, are you crazy, Blaise? You remember her bat-boogey hex, right? I'm not risking that. I don't reckon she wants me out there anyhow."

"She doesn't," Hermione stated with certainty. "I'll go see to her."

"Thank you," Draco breathed.

Hermione stepped outside. A cool breeze, the ions still fresh from the night before ruffled her hair. The ground was wet, the grass hanging onto droplets. The sky clouded as if angry to burst itself.

Initially Hermione scanned the road in front of the house, but it didn't take a second to spot Ginny on the front steps. Her knees were brought to her chest, her chin resting on them. She cried quietly.

Hermione took out her wand to dry a patch on the steps for herself, and when she sat she wrapped an arm over her friend's shoulder. She waited knowing that Ginny would speak when she was ready, and Hermione was prepared to wait as long as that took. She only had to wait a few minutes.

"It's great that Malfoy loves you that much, but is it wrong to want to marry someone who loves me?"

"No, that's the way it's supposed to be."

"You know, Luna's handling this better than anyone. She feels bad for _me_. Said, 'it's wrong for them to do this, but I guess we can make the best of it. Ginny, I hope there's no hard feelings. We'll name our child after you.' I thought Harry was going to faint."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. "This isn't important, but what if the child is a boy?"

She snorted. "Do you think that's going to stop Luna? The boy will be happy his name is a girls compared to what she'd name it if she weren't in an arrange marriage." She choked, and then began weeping all over again. "I can't do this," she wailed.

"Of anyone we could have ended up with, I think we're lucky, Ginny."

"Lucky?!"

"Draco isn't going to hurt you. He'll be a good husband. He isn't the same as he was when he was in school, you know that. Don't hurt him too badly." She cringed, and hoped that Ginny didn't see. The idea of her best friend, and the love of her life sent sickening chills through her. She literally wanted to empty out the contents of her stomach in the side bushes.

Ginny tried to grin, but it was more of a grimace. "For you."

"As far as Luna goes... You know how she is, Ginny. She'll look for the best in any given situation. We're all lucky. Most of us are marrying our friends." It was true, but she didn't feel it. She didn't feel lucky at all.

"You're right. You're always right."

Hermione nudged her playfully. "Now lets get back inside before they come looking for us. They might think that we ran off."

"An idea worth keeping."

She dabbed Ginny's tears away, holding back her own, and helped her to their feet. When they walked back in they found Draco, and Blaise in the same spot as they left them except now they were both leaning forward elbows on their knees. Whatever intensely serious conversation they were having died when the girls walked in.

"What were you two talking about," Ginny pressed sitting back on the sofa as if she never left, but she avoided looking anywhere near Draco.

Draco, and Blaise glimpsed at each other hesitantly. Draco took the initiative standing to hold Hermione's hand, the warmth of his touch tingling. "I know you're parents aren't going to be there, that it's easier they don't know, and because of it you have no one to give you away. I want to walk you down the aisle, if you don't mind."

She was uncertain. "Why did you just decide this?"

He touched her cheek. "I don't have a option in this. If I had my way I'd be at the end of that aisle, but I can't be. Since it has to be this way I want to be the one to give you to him, not the Ministry."

She beamed, and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she breathed into his ear.

She couldn't marry him, but at least he would be there. She wouldn't be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Tulip Murderer

Draco went off to work, but Hermione had her Friday free, and she took the day packing. It was hard, but when Draco got home she, and her things would be gone. It broke her heart doing it. The sooner the better. Waiting around wouldn't help things.

She emptied out her wardrobe packing them in a suitcase on their bed. Hairbrush, comb, toothbrush, clothes, a few pictures, razors, perfume, deodorant... She ticked the items off her memorized list sprawling to a stop. If she forgot anything then she could come back for it. It's not like it was the last time she would see him. It wasn't an ending. What it was... She hadn't come up with an appropriate word for it, at least not a term that Ron wouldn't use.

Hermione took a good look around their room. The large bed with thick duvet covers, the velvet curtains shielding the brightness of the day from filtering through. The colors of the room, dark, and light together. The furniture was dark, near black, but the walls were a soft blue hue giving a calming ambiance. Two ties hung on the doorknob to the master bath, a green, and silver, and a scarlet, and gold, intertwined together. She wasn't sure who put them there, or what possessed them to do it, but there they remained. Part of him, part of her.

The bathroom was done in white, and crystal. A large bay-like window was over the tub overlooking their backyard. The new plot of flowers Hermione grew at the side of the house could be seen. The old ones died in a tragic accident when Draco became intrigued with lawnmowers. In short it didn't go well, and he ended up paying a neighbor boy to finish the job, too tired by the fight with the grass to cast a simple spell. She remembered scolding him for it. She loved those flowers. In turn the next morning she found at their bedside a pile of seeds in a bag. Knowing Draco he would have attempted at growing them himself, but for one he was the Tulip murderer, and second he was well aware of how much joy she got from growing them herself. She laughed lightly at the memory.

No one would think that Draco would take an interest in Muggle things. It was very... Mr. Weasley like. However when he became entranced by the "wavemic," which she corrected him that it was a "microwave," he took a light appeal to other Muggle things. He was not obsessed like Mr. Weasley which she considered to be a good thing. She didn't have to worry about an illegal flying car hidden in their garage.

On the shelf over the tap was his cologne, and razor. Her objects that normally cluttered with his were gone as she had just packed them. Her feel to the bathroom lessened, and she went back to the bedroom.

She jolted a little when there was a soft rap at the door. She swore she was alone, but when she spun she saw Blaise leaning against the doorway his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't smile.

"Would you like help?"

"No thanks, I think I have everything." She shut the lid of her suitcase latching it. She would never get all of her belongings in one suitcase without a bit of magic.

Blaise strolled over, and picked up paying no heed to her warnings that it was heavy. "I have it," he insisted. On his way to the lounge she followed. "I may not have been Slytherin Quidditch star, but I'm not weak."

"I didn't say you were. Anyhow... Um, I'm not coming right over. I'm going to meet up with a few friends... I do every Friday."

He nodded stopping in front of the fireplace. "Come when you feel like doing so, but please don't make it too late. I need to show you you're room."

"My room," she repeated with reservation.

"I thought you'd like it better that way than having to share with me."

She suddenly felt warm. "Thank you, Blaise. For everything."

"The least I can do."

"I'm glad it was you... I mean, I wished it was Draco, but..." She sighed frustrated at her incomplete, and incoherent sentences. "None of this is your fault."

"No," he sighed too. "I won't stop making it up to you though. You deserve a choice." He took a handful of Floo Powder, and threw it into the hearth, emerald fire appearing. He stepped in, the flames harmlessly licking up his body. "I'll see you at home." He called out his house, and vanished in smoke.

Home... She presumed that was the right word for it, but it didn't feel right. Where she was at, in the house that Draco, and her chose, it would always be home.

In tradition Hermione, and her friends gathered together, again at Ron's very orange flat. She wasn't sure why they were joining there for the second week in a row. Usually they took turns, and she thought it should have been Neville, and Luna's, but she had a feeling that currently their place was a mess with Luna moving out, and into Harry's house. It would be depressing she would admit, but whether it would be more depressing than Ron's obvious lack of cleaning skills was a toss-up. When she stepped out of the fireplace she blinked several times at the hideousness of the lounge. Once someone was in the room for an hour or so the colors dulled, and several more hours, or with several bottles of Fire-Whiskey they became unnoticeable. Too bad she didn't drink.

Almost everyone showed; Harry, Neville, and Luna. Ginny was missing. It was expected. No one mentioned her except for Luna who commented airily, "it's a shame that Ginny couldn't join us." It would sound like a sarcastic comment from anyone, but her. Luna was being very serious, but rarely was she not. She was funny only in the way of being... Odd.

Harry looked like a zombie, his hair messier than usual, his face pallid, and his eyes... Dead. The beautiful sparkling green was clouded. Neville was just... Sad. There was no other word for it, and Luna was her usual self idly fingering the bottle cap charm around her neck, except like Neville she had the atmosphere of gloom. She sat in a chair as opposed to the sofa, and since Harry, and Neville were at either end avoiding each others eyes, Hermione sat between them. Ron took a place on the floor.

It was an uncomfortable still. It was never like that. They would chatter, laugh, and have fun. Sometimes they would all participate in a game of Gobstones. Those weren't even present. It was a cruel reminder that they were all suffering. That would not include Ron who seemed only slightly unease in the tense environment. Unlike everyone else he wasn't leaving a home, or any loved one. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that he would be getting married, not in the sense of an impending doom.

Hermione rolled her eyes thinking it was ridiculous how they were acting. They were friends, it shouldn't be so hard. "Ron," she began with the easiest person in terms of simple conversations, "have you spoken to Hannah?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, do you think it'll be all right?"

"She's cute... Shy... Quiet..." He shrugged, "I reckon it'll be okay, you know, once we get used to each other. At least she won't be burning my mail," he pointedly stared at Luna, laughed, and turned to Hermione. "So... Another Slytherin, eh? Can't keep you away from them."

She glared fiercely at him. "Blaise is perfectly nice. I think I got rather lucky."

He raised a red brow. "Got over Malfoy quickly."

"I did not get over Draco! I will never get over him, but honestly, what choice do I have? We have to accept it, and move on." She felt tears brimming her eyes, and she deliberated leaving, but someone beat her to it.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled brushing past her legs for the door. She remembered whenever he was upset he preferred to get away by Muggle transportation, and that seemed to be where he was going then.

Hermione pressed a hand to her forehead in exasperation. "I didn't mean to make him upset."

"You didn't do that," Neville comforted clutching her shoulder, "the Ministry did."

She glanced from him, to Luna. "How are you two doing?"

Luna slid her fingers between his. "Harry, and Penelope will be fine partners."

"But we chose each other first," Neville finished.

It was a nice way to look at things Hermione thought.

"Do you think Hannah still has those pigtails...?"

Hermione, and Neville gaped at Ron in disbelief. Luna giggled, but had her eyes to the ceiling in her own world as she was very much in most of the time.

* * *

Hermione climbed over the piles of Quidditch magazines, and socks to reach Ron's fireplace so she could Floo to Blaise's house. He might be comfortable using the word "home," but she wasn't there yet.

She hugged Ron, Neville, and Luna, promised them the next Friday, and stepped into the fireplace. She closed her eyes, kept her elbows in, and waited for the swirling sensation to stop, and once it did she stuck out her foot expertly. It took her months of tripping out of the hearth until she got it right.

She stood on a large black rug staying there while she brushed off the soot. She was in a large lounge. If you asked her later what it looked like she couldn't tell you. None of the pricey furniture, or modern lines of professional interior decorating caught her attention, it was the wall of vivid paintings. Each of them appeared to be originals.

Wiping her trainers on the dirty rug she went to examine them closer. There had to be near a hundred of them, and as far as she could tell all of them bared the same signature, B.Z. at the bottom left-hand corner. Instantly she knew they were all hand painted by Blaise Zabini. She was awed.

The pink, and gold sky over the cliffs of Modher in Ireland. A shooting star crossing behind the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The red, and brown dirt of the deep crevice that was the Grand Canyon in America. A dust storm in the Sahara Desert of Africa. The rippled chests of powerful men, and a restive sea-horse of the Trevi Fountain in Rome. Beautifully painted in such a way that she had a hard time pulling herself from them.

"Do you like them," Blaise's voice called from close behind her giving her a small imperceptible jolt. She didn't know he was there.

"They're lovely. You have a lot of talent. Do you sell them?"

He chuckled. "They're not that good."

"I think so."

"Thank you, but I don't think I could part with them. There's too many memories in these."

She tore her gaze from the endless spans of the Grand Canyon to look up to him. "Like?"

He took a single curl of her hair tucking it behind her ear. She stopped breathing. "Another day perhaps. Let me show you your room."

A grand staircase set in the corner of the room curved up into the ceiling. He went ahead of her leading her to a long hallway. He stopped at the first door to his left pushing it open, and in gesturing for her to go in first.

The room was... Amazing. The exact shade of the soft blue hue of her, and Draco's bedroom was there, but instead of Draco's preferred dark colors there was the white furniture, and soft carpet that was much like walking on plush. The bed was as big as the one she was used to with pastel floral print. There was a door to her right, and when she peeked in she saw the identical bathroom, the crystal, and white.

"Blaise," she breathed in admiration. "This is beautiful. It must have took you a long time."

He stood slightly outside of the door as if there were a line he wasn't supposed to cross. "I thought you'd be more comfortable with something familiar. I did extract what I knew was Draco's touches, though," he grinned, "I hope you don't mind."

"It's perfect," she stated sadly. "Really, Blaise, you don't have to go to so much trouble -"

"Stop that," he demanded. "I don't want to hear another word of how I don't have to do something, because I'm aware of that. I _want_ to do this for you. It's not out of guilt, but..." He trailed off, his eyes giving off a dazed expression. He sighed, and bowed. "Goodnight, Hermione."

Perplexed she watched him go leaving her in her new bedroom. She went into the bathroom, and took a very long bubble bath, her skin red, and raw by the steaming water. She took her time brushing her teeth, and hair, dressing in her sleepwear. She knew once she laid down she wouldn't sleep. The bed was empty, and strangely cold without Draco next to her. It pained her, and she wrapped her arm around her stomach in a protective gesture. Then she saw something on the nightstand.

Hermione pulled herself up to get a better look. What she saw stabbed her deep in her heart. Packets of Tulip seeds laid there beside a note.

_Hermione My Love,_

_Grow these. Make it your home. Think of me, because I'll be thinking of you._

_Your Love, Draco_

She cried herself to sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Wedding Dresses

Three days later Hermione slung her jacket over herself jogging down the stairs. Ginny waited in the lounge, Blaise at the fireplace. They weren't talking, not even glimpsing in each others direction. Ginny jumped up happily when she saw Hermione. Happily would be a stretch since she still looked like she belonged in a horror film, but Hermione would admit she looked better than she last saw her. Her hair that had become as wild as Hermione's was pulled back into a high ponytail, and she put on a light coat of blush bringing life to her otherwise pallid face.

"Are you ready?"

"Yep."

Blaise smirked. It wasn't Draco's, but it still made her smile. "Do you have that credit card, and password?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, I'm using my own money."

"Stubborn as ever, Hermione. Most girls would take advantage of your situation."

"Good thing you aren't marrying most girls then." She hid her flinch, and didn't regret it since he laughed heartily.

"Have a good time."

Ginny grabbed the crook of her arm. "Come on, Hermione. This is going to be fun."

Fun... That was Ginny's term of what they were going to do. Shopping for dresses was fine with Hermione, but shopping for her wedding dress for a day in which she wasn't going to marry Draco was more of a black day than anything. Ginny however saw it as an opportunity to shop, one of her favorite things, and Hermione was fine with acting as if she really cared what she wore if it would help Ginny with her mood.

Hermione was worried for her, and Harry. The others seemed to be accepting the situation since they could do nothing to change it - and they tried.

Harry, Ron, and Draco all tried to use their positions in the Ministry however irrelevant to change the Department's mind. It didn't work, of course. Hermione had gone as far as taking her break from work yesterday to visit the Department. She was denied as well. When she came home she poured herself over books to find a loophole, a snag in the law, anything to help a case she couldn't fight. She was there to five in the morning. Blaise had been kind enough to deliver food to her, but they didn't speak. She barely looked up from the books in his expansive library that was bigger than the one in Hogwarts.

"See you, Blaise," she barely got out her farewell before she was lurched into a very tight tube.

When she opened her eyes she saw that they were down the hill from Blaise's house that sat away from everyone. He didn't have neighbors (unless you counted the surrounding woods), he was deserted on top of the steep mound.

"Where are we going," Hermione asked for the first time. It wasn't that she cared where she went, or what dress she wore, but she didn't think that they would have apparated as close to the house as they did. It almost made her wonder what the point was other than the wearing descend they would have to make down it.

"Muggle London."

"Why?"

Ginny didn't answer instead pulled her along to the waiting taxi parked at the side of the dirt road. The drive was a full hour. In ten minutes they were out of the country, and into the city, buildings, and lights passing them by. Soon there wasn't a tree in sight. She could see in the review mirror the bearded man becoming impatient. He was obviously worrying if they were going to pay him, in thirty-minutes he had probably given up hope of seeing a tip. Hermione wasn't to be pressed that day, and she was sure that if he didn't lighten his tense mood that he wasn't going to see it.

The driver slammed his breaks a little too hard, the seat belt making itself useful slamming them back into their seats, but caused Hermione's chest to ache. Needless to say the driver didn't see his tip, and Ginny called him a few choice words that Hermione ignored. Ginny had picked up some rather bad language from her five brothers, six if you counted Fred who died during the war, and he should be counted as he had as bad of a mouth as any of them though not as bad as Ron. No one was as bad as Ron.

Ginny took her hand, and practically dragged her down the street of lined shops. It was a Muggle form of Diagon Alley, much more upscale. Windows, of dresses, and suits, books, and such were a blur past her.

"Ginny, what's the hurry," she gasped.

Again, she didn't answer. She halted in front of a glass door tugging her inside. At least fifty circular racks were randomly placed on the floor, and then there was a row of racks bolted to the wall. White, red, and caramel dresses. Elegant chapels, many with sequins, and designs, others plain, and simple. Ugly, so-so, and pretty. Then there was bridesmaid's dresses that also ranged from hideous, and nice. One made Hermione want to gauge her eyes out. Ever imaginable color was in it in sprawling stripes. She, and Ginny had a good laugh at it.

Hermione waited in a dressing room while Ginny ran back, and forth throwing dresses over the door for her to try on. Hermione threw them away one after another.

"Ginny," she complained, "don't get a train. Something simple!"

"Zabini's right, you do need to take advantage of this. It might be the only wedding you'll ever have."

Hermione pitched a white monster over avoiding her comment. "Plain!"

Ginny muttered something intangible under her breath, but it was evident that it wasn't anything that one would say in mixed company.

Hermione understood the frustration. She honestly didn't care what she wore to her wedding. At least that was the way the day started out, but now she did care. She honestly did. She didn't want anything fancy, or revealing like the ones that her dear old friend was picking out for her. It wasn't going to be anything fancy, there wasn't even going to be a ceremony, not a real one. A few words would be said, and they would sign the papers, and be on their way. She preferred it like that.

Twenty minutes later Hermione finally tried on a plain white dress. It was long, covering her feet, the length of the sleeves billowing to cover her hands. She couldn't help herself, she twirled, laughing quietly at herself in the mirror, her hair in disarray, but she looked... Amazing. She wished that it could be Draco at the end of the aisle waiting for her instead of walking her down it... Tears flooded her eyes breaking through the dam of her lids cascading over her cheeks. She sobbed.

"Hermione," Ginny asked peeking her head through the crack of the door. "Oh, Hermione." She hugged her sympathetically. "I know," she hushed, "I know."

Minutes passed until Hermione could pull herself together. "I'm okay," she assured wiping her wet face. "I want this one."

"You cried in it," she said with mixed amusement, and horror. "It might be cursed, so yes, we're going to buy it." Ginny piled the discarded dresses in her arms, and went out to hang the rejects.

Hermione gave one last glance at herself, and put on her street clothes. She was relieved to be in her old jeans as opposed to the lovely yet horrid dress.

She paid with the Muggle money she made sure to bring. Once she did Ginny turned to the door, and Hermione grabbed her elbow like she had done to her earlier. "Wait, while we're here you should buy one."

Ginny flushed. "I didn't bring my money."

She knew it was a lie. "I'll pay for it, you can pay me back later."

"No."

"Gin -"

"I don't want a dress," she hissed. "I'll get one when Harry asks me."

"Harry can't -"

"Draco asked you!"

"And what do you think I'll be wearing this to? Ours? I'm marrying Blaise, I don't have a choice - none of us do. Accept it. Try on a dress."

Ginny wrenched out of her grasp stalking to a rack snatching a black one as plain as Hermione's. She had trouble not laughing.

"I'll use it for your wedding, and mine."

"My wedding?"

"Someone has to witness for you," she pointed out logically. "Unless you'd like Luna putting bugs in your hair to ward off bad luck."

"True."

They laughed, holding the stitches forming in their sides. Several customers stared at them, but they went unnoticed. Hermione achieved that days goal. Her friend laughed.

A/N: It doesn't become clear why Ginny selected a Muggle store to shop in, so I'll put here why she did in case any of you are curious. She didn't want the depressing atmosphere of shops like in the Wizarding community where many were doing what they were. While Hermione was humoring her, Ginny was trying to make the best of the day for her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Morse Code

Tuesday... Wednesday... Thursday... Friday...

Tomorrow was Hermione's wedding. She was numb thinking about it. She entertained fantasies that someone - anyone - would crash it, tell her the law was abolished, and free her. Most of the time that hero was Draco. She fantasized through her morning routine then banished them. She couldn't afford it emotionally if those fantasies weren't to come true.

She had spent her free time Tuesday, and Wednesday in the library re-reading every law book there was. Ten at night she had gone out to a real library, and a couple of bookstores in hopes they would offer a larger selection. They didn't.

She never gave up on anything in her life. There was a first for everything. Hermione Granger gave up. Her fate was to be with Blaise. _It could be worse_ she told herself daily, a twisted version of Luna's optimistic attitude.

Blaise was wonderful for those two days as he delivered meals without concern, or complaint. She made herself promise that if she couldn't find a way to fight the law then when they were married she would do her best to be a good wife. She owed him that much.

Lounging on the couch with a book in front of the roaring fire Blaise came in from the stairs with a sly smile.

"What?"

"Go upstairs to your room."

She crinkled her forehead at his demand. "Why?"

"You'll see."

She laid her book aside jumping up, and going to her bedroom, but halted at the door. Candles littered it, and her eyes drew to the bed covered in a blanket of rose petals. In the center was an off-the-shoulder satin dress, a note on top.

_Hermione,_

_Put this on, and come downstairs._

It wasn't signed. Her veins were ice. What did Blaise have planned? What did it matter? That time tomorrow night she would be his wife. If he wanted to do something romantic she should be happy. Too bad it didn't work that way, all she felt was dread.

She put on the dress, swept blush over her cheekbones, applied a thin coat of lip gloss, and prepared herself mentally. She would have to act her best. Smiles, giggles, and happiness. Everything she didn't feel.

Hermione took each step slowly concentrating on her one inch heels. One... Two... Three... She counted them. When she reached thirty-three she looked up, and gasped.

Where Blaise had stood was a flaxen man in a crisp black suit.

"Draco," she cried running to him.

He picked her up in his arms. He kissed both of her cheeks, and held her face while he kissed her lips. They groaned. "I've missed you, Hermione. It's been hell without you."

"I know, trust me I know." She smirked up at him. "So you're the one behind all of this?"

"I want one last night with you. Blaise understands thus he wrote the note, and set up your room. For tonight you're mine." He spun her slowly taking in every speck of her. "Gorgeous." He jutted his elbow out for her to take. "Shall we?"

She wondered vaguely where Blaise was, surely not watching their exchange. No, he was probably in his room. She felt immensely grateful towards him. "Would be a pleasure."

"Later, darling," he winked jokingly.

She giggled. A real giggle.

They were then in a constricting tube, and then they were at Draco's intended destination. They were on a balcony, city lights below them endless amount of stars above. There wasn't any sound, a spell barriar probably keeping them from being disturb with Muggle noise like cars, and yells. She looked around, arched glass doors revealed an expansive bedroom of a hotel suite.

"He's lending us the best room in the hotel, but we're only here for the dinner," he waved his hand over a delicious looking meal on the intimate table for two. He held out a chair for her in a true gentleman's fashion.

She beamed. "This is wonderful, Draco. Unnecessary, but wonderful. You didn't have to go through all of this trouble. I would've been happy with just you." She placed her napkin gingerly on her lap.

He turned serious. "I want you to remember this."

"I remember all of our moments."

He shook his head as though he was being severely misunderstood. "Yes, but you'll have all of your important moments with him."

They looked to their plates simultaneously. He was right. It wasn't just about the wedding, or even the child she'll have to bear. Those were important moments certainly, but there was more to it than that. It was every day of the rest of her life with someone else.

Soon she broke the deafening silence with talk of her latest case. It broke the ice well, they began talking as if there wasn't a tomorrow, or time at all. It was like they were their old selves, when they were happy.

When they set their silverware on their plates, and stood Hermione assumed they were going home, but after apparating she opened her eyes to a building with flashing lights, and music to make the listeners hearing-impaired. There was a long line of radically dressed people outside. A club. He tugged her gently towards it going through the doors, past the burly guard. She thought she saw their hands touched, a sneaky pass of money.

Strobe lights flickering green, purple, blue, gold, and red lit the dance floor, and the swaying people on it, and the bar lit up by it's own blue ropes. To the sides were tables filled with couples, and groups.

He bent his lips to her hear. "Grace me with a dance?"

She chuckled, "sure."

They blended themselves into the crowd. Draco twirled her twice before bringing her flush against him with a wicked grin. They danced slow in spite of the beat of lights that were suggesting there was a faster song booming overhead. Draco, and Hermione didn't hear it. As far as they were concerned no one, and nothing existed but them. It might have well been true, for the darkness hid them well. They went unnoticed.

He swayed her hips, and she tickled the light hairs on the back of his neck. He trailed the tip of his nose over her jaw line, her lips, meeting the point of their noses. He tilted to meld their lips together. Her arms circled his neck digging her nails into his shoulders. In return he clawed her hips.

"Give me tonight," he said huskily.

"You have it."

He pressed their hips mutually to exaggerate his point. "Hermione... I want you tonight. Please. I need you."

"How I wished you could have every night."

"Give me this one."

She thought of their bedroom, and held him as they apparated. When they were there he wasted no time grabbing the back of her knees balancing her against him fusing their mouths once more. She felt herself drop on the familiar bed. Under her fingers was thin pieces of silk. She smelled roses, and when she opened her eyes saw Draco's glowing face from the dozens of candles.

"Sly," she whispered.

He smiled playfully, but quickly became as serious as he did during the beginning of the meal. "We're going to take this slow, take our time. Then we're going to do it again, and again, until we're in pain, or too tired to carry on."

"Sounds like a plan."

He brushed their lips. "Don't forget who your heart belongs to."

"It has your name all over it."

"Mine beats yours, like Morse Code."

She placed her palm over his chest ignoring the cheesiness of his statement. Frankly she didn't care what he said. She was there with him, and nothing could be better (intended future aside). "Indeed it does."

Sliding his hands under the hem of her dress tracing patterns over her legs he bit her collarbone sucking the skin leaving his mark. She left hers on his back, four long scratches from his shoulder blades to the waist of his trousers.

It was the best, and shortest night of their lives.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Plainly Painful

Hermione had gone to sleep last night with the sweet knowledge that she would be waking up to Draco next to her for the first time in a week. She wouldn't think about it being the last, she wanted to enjoy how the sunlight transformed his hair from its baby yellow to near white. She loved to watch the innocent doze as he woke up.

However disappointment fell on her like an anvil when she saw that he wasn't there. She felt his side of the bed. It was cold telling her that he had been gone for a while.

The door swung open, a red-haired tornado bursting through with clothing. With a wave of her wand Ginny got rid of the thousands of petals, and puddles of wax. She threw the covers off of Hermione dropping a raggedy pair of jeans, and a stained t-shirt at her.

"Dress in that, we have a long travel ahead of us."

Hermione stared wide-eyed from the clothes on her lap to her. "What's this?"

"Traveling clothes."

"They're dirty."

"Wow, you are smart," she remarked sarcastically. "We'll be going through six fireplaces."

"Six! I'm getting married at the Ministry, it only takes one!"

Ginny grinned mischievously. "The Ministry was unavailable - renovation work - it's all shut down. Get dressed."

"Six," she murmured. "That can take us out of the country."

"Hermione! Stop thinking, and for goodness sakes put on these clothes. We don't have all day."

She glared at her, but did as she said pulling on the jeans, and the t-shirt a hole in the short sleeve. She grabbed her cloak, and with Ginny they sprinted hurriedly down the hallway, and into the fireplace. They arrived in a strange house, but one look at the ginger couple in the lounge that Ginny waved to she assumed that they were part of the Weasley family. They spun to another place, a dingy pub, and to yet another, and another. She was coated in soot, flecks of ashes in her hair. The swirling of greens, and grates churning like in a blender made her sick to her stomach. She stepped out of the final hearth. She didn't know if there were any others that she needed to go through, but it didn't matter, she was going to stay there.

"You don't look good," Ginny assessed.

Hermione glowered at her seeing that Ginny was layered in soot, and grime as well. "I couldn't have guessed," she grumbled.

Ginny led her over to a chair. They were in a bedroom of some sort, much like the hotel room. It was a hotel room. She couldn't comprehend why they were there, and she was afraid that if she opened her mouth one more time she would empty out any contents in her.

"Harry, get her some ginger ale."

"Harry," Hermione managed to say.

Then there they were, Harry, Ron, Hannah, Luna, Neville, Penelope, and Draco all gathered worriedly around her all dressed in suits, and dresses. She groaned, and took the cup Harry handed her.

"You'll feel loads better after a shower, Hermione," Neville said.

"No I won't."

"Sure you will," Ron disagreed, "once you clean up you'll be in top shape."

"It's my wedding day, I won't be feeling loads better." She looked up at them through tears. None of them looked at her except Draco who came to kneel in front of her taking her hands in silence. She clung to him not wanting to ever let go, but she did when Harry suggested she get a move on, and Draco moved away from her.

She downed the ginger ale in one gulp, and stilled for a second before getting up, the room slowing it's spinning for her to make it to the bathroom - the door that didn't have a peep hole.

"Do you need any help," Ginny called through the closed door.

"No," she snapped turning the knobs for a blast of steaming water. Her clothes piled on the floor she burned herself when she stepped in, but she paid no mind to her reddened skin. It made her feel something other than dread, and heartache that would only grow stronger as the day passed.

After ten minutes she got out, dried off, and knocked on the door in signal for any one of the girls to come in. Ginny did with her white dress. She laid it carefully on the counter by the sink, and pulled up a stool that had been in the corner.

"Sit," she ordered. "I'm going to do your hair, and makeup."

Hermione sat, but didn't do so without complaint. "Why are they all here?"

"They're your friends," she replied simply as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.

"I didn't want anyone here. This wasn't supposed to be special."

She opened containers of blush, and lipstick rifling through a small bag for more. "You think we'd let you do this on your own?"

"I had you, and Draco."

"You know, Draco almost didn't come. We all had to force him."

"What?"

She sighed as if it were against her better judgment to say it. "He didn't want to see you get married. He told Harry to take you down the aisle, because he couldn't handle it. He eventually came to his senses."

"Who made him do that?"

"We all did, but it didn't take many threats. He knows he needs to see you do this, or else he'll never get closure."

She bit her lip as Ginny brushed over her face. "Will you be getting closure?"

"I think we all will, but perhaps I won't need to."

"What do you mean?"

She laughed. "Ron, George, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy are ready to kill Draco."

"He didn't do anything!"

"He'll be marrying me, forced or not he wasn't in their good books before."

"Don't let them kill him, okay?"

"Oh, they won't," she said easily. "They love you too, you know. You're their little sister, and because a lot of your happiness relies on him they won't touch a hair on his big head, but it might not go without a couple of curses."

They laughed. Hermione surprised herself with the sound. She didn't expect that she'd laugh at all that day, but Ginny had that way about her, and she was grateful. At least when she talked with her children about the day she got married it wouldn't sound like a short recap with happy pieces missing. She could say that she did laugh at a joke Aunt Ginny told. She dispelled these thoughts quickly however for they involved children. She didn't want to think about the next part of the horrid marriage law.

"They did get into an argument earlier of whether Draco should walk you down the aisle. Dad was ready to do it, so were all the boys. We decided to leave it up to you since you do have a choice. Draco is willing, but... It's your call."

Hermione pondered her choices. She loved Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George, but she wasn't closest to them. Between Harry, and Ron she rather Harry do it. She had no reasoning for that preference. Mr. Weasley was a father-figure to her. She thought deeply about it. She had her heart set on Draco. She wanted him to give her away. "Draco," she declared.

"Draco it is."

"Where are we," she finally asked.

"Italy. Blaise thought it would be nice to marry in his inn here. There's a lovely vineyard out back."

She didn't respond.

After her makeup, and hair was done, and Ginny helped her into her simple dress, she was turned to face the full length mirror hooked behind the door. She held her breath as she surveyed her reflection.

She was stunning even to herself. Her hair was sleek in waves, her makeup putting emphasis on her lips, and wide brown eyes. She reminded herself not to cry. She wouldn't cry that day.

"You should give up Quidditch, and go into the work of miracles, Ginny."

She chuckled, "you were beautiful to start with, there wasn't much I had to do."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let me go show off my masterpiece." She pushed her out of the door.

Mingling around by the bed they all turned to her. Hannah, and Penelope grinned on kindly, Luna smiled, Neville blushed, Harry looked on like a proud father, Ron's eyebrows disappeared under the fringe of his hair, and Draco was passive.

It didn't last long, Draco strolled towards her slowly trailing his thumb from her hairline to her jaw, and over to her lips which he barely touched. "Gorgeous," he sighed. "Give me time with the bride," he said to the others.

They gave furtive glances to one another, but they filed out of the room, and they were left alone.

Hermione didn't want to break the moment, but she had a feeling that there wasn't a moment to break. "Why is he doing all of this?"

He smirked letting his hand fall, her cheek cold where it had been. "He wanted to give you a real wedding. He doesn't want you to miss out on this." He reached inside of his jacket, and brought out a chain. He took her left hand slipping off her wedding band, and strung it on the necklace, and then draped it around her neck.

She held her band as he let go. "Why?"

"He has one for you."

"I want to wear this one."

"You are. It's with you. It's appropriate to wear your husband's ring -"

"This is my husband's -"

"Hermione please," he begged, something he very rarely did if ever. "You know what I mean."

"You'll be wearing Ginny's," she asked.

He shook his head, "we're not exchanging rings."

"I don't have one to give Blaise."

"Ginny has it, stop worrying." He glimpsed to the door. "They should be down there by now. Are you ready?"

"No."

He kissed her forehead. "I'll be there. The whole way."

Out into the dim lit hallway, and into the elevator down the lobby. Before the doors opened he looped his arm with hers, and the scene that greeted her made her mouth drop slightly.

Lights streamed from the ceiling, two ropes lighting the aisle, enough fold-able seats to sit her friends, and an old Ministry official at the end with Blaise fidgeting nervously with his lapel. When he looked up, he smiled. She smiled, but she was sure it was more of a grimace.

Hermione remembered the walk down the aisle, remembered her reluctance to let go of Draco, his hurt features, Ginny standing beside her, her hand constantly on her arm in reassurance as her and Blaise said their vows. She remembered the band he placed on her finger, plain, like her dress, like her feelings to what she was doing. Plainly painful, and in the art of repressing she didn't remember anything else.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Crashing Down

Fragments of her wedding night came slowly to her when she woke the next morning. It was certainly not the wedding night of girls dreams. Blaise sweetly was determined not to pressure her, but she had done so well to repress everything else to act okay for his sake that she wasn't about to ruin it. They took it slow, slower than her and Draco. Emotionally she detached herself as she did for their wedding.

Hermione did wonderfully, and she was proud of how she made it through, but it came crashing down on her the next morning as it would many more times in the future.

Memories resurfaced, the ones that couldn't be put away through repressing. Draco's face at her wedding was the clearest one. He looked to be in physical pain. She wanted to call him then, to make sure he was okay, but she resisted the urge. It wasn't hard, she couldn't get out of the bed to even get to the phone.

She forced to move her legs, and felt the blankets soft on her bare skin. She looked over, and her heart dropped. A gorgeous dark man laid next to her, still asleep, his hand over his chest, his ring glinting in the sunlight pouring from the window.

That was her motivation. Slipping out of bed she took the top sheet wrapping herself in it, and went to the window. The neatly mowed grass swayed in the breeze, happy from the nourishment the light was giving. Then it began raining. She realized that she was in fact crying. She trembled, leaning against the patio window. As she sobbed she felt thick strong arms wound themselves around her waist. It was the last thing she wanted - to be comforted by him, but she let him support her.

The night she got her letter she thought her world had come crashing down. She didn't know it was only a crack, one of many that would eventually lead to its crumbling. It was crashing on her then, burying her under its rubble.

"Shhh," he cooed. "It's okay..."

How could she tell him it wasn't? She turned her body towards his burying her face in the crook of his neck slicking it with her quiet tears. She felt his exposed flesh, the warmth of it. She wanted to put distance between them, it felt too intimate, her feelings too close to the surface that she was going to combust.

"Hermione..." His hands on her shoulders he pushed her back. "Perhaps you should go see Venice yourself today. Without me. That would be best."

She shook her head, "I don't understand. This is our honeymoon," she flinched at the word.

"I've seen Venice countless of times. I'd love to show you the sights, but you're in need of being alone, and I don't reckon you want to go home. You're strong, you have your wand, you'll be better seeing it alone. I have some things I can take care of while I'm here."

She stared at him in wonder. She didn't have to explain anything to him. Somehow he knew how she felt. She hugged him tightly, kissed his cheek, and went to the wardrobe to get dressed. Jeans, and a halter. She flashed him a thankful smile. He looked put-out, but understanding. She did need to be alone.

With her pack containing her money, and bottle of water, the map he given her, and some words he taught her in the last second, she left. She hailed a taxi, told the driver where to go, and traveled everywhere in Venice. She went to St. Mark's Square, and in the corner to the Teatro San Gallo, the breath-taking Santa Maria Gloriosa Dei Frari, Rialtobridge, Academia to admire Europe's best art collections.

When the sun was well on its way to setting her head was spinning, and her feet aching. She stopped into Cafe Florian for a random beverage. She couldn't read any of it, and if she could make a very logical guess she didn't know how good it would be, so she ordered something random. Blaise should have taught her more than "please," "thank you," "sorry," and "I don't speak Italian."

The cafe was lovely in an old-style. Beautiful paintings, and gold designs covered the walls yet it was comfortable. Dozens of small tables, and chairs sat outside, and though it was nice, and sunny she went inside to a small corner, and was still able to hear the soft music being personally orchestrated outside on a balcony.

The day did do its intended purpose. She had been alone, but instead of making her feel better, she felt worse. She was seeing attractions alone on her honeymoon while her husband was likely working. It wasn't fair to him, but she would have never seen the downside to it if she didn't give it a try. She couldn't help but feel glad that she did the days activities on her own. She needed her time to grieve, no matter how little time she had.

She twirled her new ring on her finger feeling Draco's heavy on her neck. She had broken her promise, the one she made with herself days before the wedding. She was determined to be the best wife to Blaise no matter the circumstances of how they came to be. She was already breaking that promise, and the guilt became barreling into her gut. Maybe it wasn't best that she went on her own.

Hermione slipped the ring off to take a closer look at it, the waitress setting her cup in front of her. She stopped her inspecting long enough to taste it. It was a good thing that the waitress turned her back, because her face was contorted in disgust. Whatever it was she ordered wasn't good at all. There was a plant next to her, and in order not to offend anyone she would pour it out before she paid her bill.

She held the ring closer to her, and with the glint from the sun through the window she saw something inside. An engraving. She moved it faintly to read the inscription: _La mia scelta_. She didn't know what that meant. Putting aside that Blaise put an inscription on her ring that she couldn't read, why would he put one there at all? Unless it was for him.

Hermione wasn't known for patience, or apathy, not when it came to knowledge. Putting her ring back on, and checking the room for any witness she poured her beverage into the plant, laid her money on the table, and left.

The ride to the Zabini hotel was slow, and when it stopped she practically threw her money to the man running inside. The elevator was slower than the driver. She fumbled with her key to 721, but when she was able to unlock it she looked like she had barged it, the way the door swung open and crashed behind her. She had become angrier from the cafe, and she didn't know why, she just was.

At the far end of the lounge by the door to the bedroom Blaise sat behind his desk bent over a stack of papers. He looked up his brows raised in suspicion. "Is anything wrong," he asked slowly, patronizingly.

"La mia scelta?!"

He sighed heavily, and placed his quill into the ink bottle. "Sai che cosa significa?"

"I don't speak Italian!"

"I asked if you knew what it meant."

"Clearly I don't!"

Calmly he stood flicking his wand to close the door, and then waved his hand to the bed offering her to sit down. She didn't, and he shrugged his shoulders. "If you recall my birthday was March 25. You, and Draco attended the party."

Hermione did remember. There were nearly a hundred people in the lobby of one of the hotels Blaise owned in England. It wasn't wild, a very subdued formal event; a nice way of saying boring. "I remember."

"There was a man there, he's high up in the Department of Magical Law -"

"Get to the point," she seethed any lack of patience she had ebbing.

"I've liked you for a long time, Hermione. I remember the first time you caught my eye. It was during the war, and while I was battling on my side I saw you fighting on yours. You were furious, untamable, and I'm sure I fell in love with you then. I spent my dues in Azkaban, and I came back on the decision to make everything right, and hopefully make you mine. It would take time - I knew that, but you were already Draco's."

She felt herself soften slightly, but held her rigid form.

"I couldn't tell Draco, so I told that man. He wasn't a friend, merely a very annoying Wizard that followed me around in Hogwarts." At the look of horror on her face he held up his hands defensively, "no, it's not what you think! I didn't ask him any favors. No one knew about the law. He was a little tipsy though, and told me that he didn't get me a gift, but it was to come. He set you up with me. Hermione, I would never ask him to do such a thing, I would never do that to Draco, or you -"

"Then why didn't you tell him to change it?" She balled her hands into fists shaking with rage.

"I tried," he yelled back. "I did try, but it was set, it was too late!"

She trembled with her renewed anger. "A gift?! I was a gift, like a slave!"

"That's the wrong way to look at it -"

"How do you look at it then? Honestly, Blaise this is sick!"

"Isn't it better this way though," he asked desperately, his voice soft again. "I know you'd rather be with Draco, and I want that for you too, but you could've ended up with someone horrible. With the exception of you, and Ginny it was all random. You could have ended up with anyone, but you're with me, and I won't hurt you, I'll do anything to make you happy."

Hermione focused on loosening her fists, at calming her out-of-control breathing. _It wasn't his fault. He didn't do this._She barely felt the tears streaming. "La mia scelta. What does it mean?"

Blaise tensed. "My choice."

"Your choice..."

"You were always my choice. I've never wanted anyone else. I may not be yours, but you'll always be mine. Hermione do you remember the paintings in the lounge?" When she nodded he went on, "I painted those in Azkaban. It was my escape. I imagined going to those places, visiting them with you. Those were through our eyes. Every place I painted I planned on taking you to."

In a significant wave of sorrow Hermione's rage was gone. She felt like she was on the worst roller coaster of her life, but she couldn't help but bolt forward hugging him their sadness overcoming her.

He flinched, then held her. She tilted backwards holding his face between her hands. "I'll be the best wife I can for you." She meant it that time. She would be. No matter what.

"I don't expect you to pretend you love me."

"No, but..." She bit her lip coming close to bleeding. She hated what she was going to say next. It was the final crack in her world. The final blow. "I love learning."

A/N: Unfortunately my laptop needs repair. I'm very lucky that this story was backed-up, but I'm afraid that along the way I'll be making improvements all over again. It was only the rough draft.

I do not speak Italian, so like I have said in "Letters of Forgiveness" I'm doing this by translator. I apologise if it's rough or incorrect. That goes for the descriptions to the cafe Hermione visited in Venice. I was going by a multitude of pictures.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The Quibbler's News

The next day Blaise properly showed her the sights. He was wonderful to be around. He made her laugh. They went to all the places she visited alone the day before, and she would confess willingly that it was better with someone else. Nonetheless she was glad to be back in England. She couldn't very well say home, because despite that she was staying in Blaise's bedroom it didn't feel like it. There were some of her things in there. The heavy velvet curtains, a small bookshelf to hold her favorites nearby, and her rocking chair that was salvaged from her old attic. It was the one that her mother used to rock her in. It looked like it had been restored of its nicks, and chipped paint. She recalled squeezing Blaise until he was out of air for surprising her with it.

She avoided seeing her friends for the time being, especially Draco. She felt that she had betrayed everything she loved. She felt like an adulteress every day. She didn't know how she could ever face him again, or how she faced Blaise. He must have seen the guilt in her, but he never showed it.

Draco didn't contact her either. She understood why, but it didn't hurt any less. She kept herself from asking Blaise about him. She was sure that they were talking with each other, but she made herself to be the best wife. A good wife didn't question her husband about her love.

Hermione spent most of her days in the library at its desk. She wasn't looking for a loophole in the law, but simply in a goal to read every book in there, including the dark ones. It got her mind off of whose house she was in, who her husband was, and what she was doing with her life. She buried herself in her law career, sure, but there was only so much obsessive case work she could do before she ran out, and her boss was kicking her out of the office every night.

A short rap announced Blaise adorned in his usual black clothes, much like Draco. He came in laying the The Quibbler on her desk, and she sat her book aside. "You should read this," he said.

"Since when do you read The Quibbler?"

"I was passing a newsstand today, and saw one of the headlines. Read it."

When she looked down she immediately saw what he was referring to on the top edge of the paper. "**Writer/Editor/Owner of The Quibbler, and Researcher Missing Along With Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom.**" "They ran away?!"

"Appears so. One of her writers must have put it in. The Quibbler has a problem with long names," he pointed to an exceptionally longer one running the edge of the page.

She knew he was trying to distract her. It wasn't going to work. "Why didn't the Daily Prophet scoop this up?"  
"The Daily Prophet is practically being run by the Ministry, they don't want to give anyone ideas."

"I can't believe Neville would do this!"

"Why can't you? The man killed Nagini, and he's been crazy about this girl for ages. Nothing is going to scare him, least of all the Ministry, and their laws."

She raised a brow. "How would you know he's been crazy about her?"

He chortled. "Slytherin's talk too, more than any house put together."

"No kidding," she mumbled staring back down at the front page. It wasn't registering. She couldn't believe it until one of her friends confirmed it. She threw it on the desk, and ran down the stairs Blaise at her heels. She turned into the kitchen beside the staircase where a phone was recently installed in the corner. She didn't even have to ask Blaise to do it which made it a much sweeter surprise, one that she received before he showed her her rocking chair.

She dialed Harry's number first. It was busy. She tried Ginny's. It was busy as well. She took a breath before she dialed Ron's. It rung. Once... Twice... Three times.

"Hello."

"Ron, did you -"

"Yeah, I saw it," he said quickly as if saying it for the hundredth time that day.

"Well? Did they?"

"The Quibbler doesn't lie about things like this, Hermione. Even if the writer sounds weirder than Luna."

"Ron," she griped impatiently wanting more to get to the point than to talk about Luna's strange behavior that they all came to found endearing. "Why did they do it? When?"

"Two nights ago. I reckon they got tired of waiting for the law to change, so they ran."

"Did they say anything?"

"Nope," he replied shortly. "Makes sense though, they have to keep it secret. The Ministry is going to be on them like Muggle lue now."

"Glue," she corrected automatically. "Harry's head of the Auror Department, surely they're not thinking of having him look for them, right?"

"Of course they won't. It's a conflict of interest, Hermione, you know that."

"I don't know anything anymore," she spat. "I never thought the Ministry would pass a marriage law, but they did."

"True," he admitted tiredly. She had a fleeting thought that maybe she saw The Quibbler later than the rest of them, and he had this discussion before with someone, or perhaps all of them. "How's that going by the way? Blaise treating you well?"

"Yes, it's fine," she told him just as tiredly. "I'm just worried about Neville, and Luna. How could they do this? They'll be put in Azkaban if they're caught! Risking their careers for this."

"Not everyone's like you Hermione, some people find other things important -"

She felt her temper rise. "Draco means everything to me, and if being with him meant sacrificing my career I would do it! It wouldn't have done any good to us to be arrested! Either way we were going to be separated."

"If you didn't get caught -"

"Which we would've. They'll be caught too. Oh, this is horrible."

"Hermione," he moaned, "they'll be fine. You worry too much."

"Fine," she spat, and without a goodbye she hung up. Ron was never the best person to talk to in situations like these. She recognized that he was almost as angry as she was - he didn't find it fair, but he had the conversation, possibly several times over. She hadn't, and the rage was still fresh.

Blaise sat himself on top of the counter. He went to say something, but stopped when he was interrupted by the telephone suddenly ringing. It was like that first night - the one that changed everything - everyone calling everyone else to make sure that the letters weren't some sick joke made up by George, but it was quite obvious that it couldn't have been. George, and Angelina had a new baby, Fred, and he kept them up all night long. George didn't have the strength to go to so much trouble.

"Hello?"

"Hermione," Ginny's voice came through. "I suppose you read the paper?"

"Yeah, I just talked with Ron. Your line was busy."

"I was talking with Harry." It was a simple statement, not a surprise, really, but there was something in her voice that alerted Hermione. She knew instantly what it was.

"Ginny! You asked him to run away with you?!" She saw Blaise's eyes widened as she felt hers do. There was silence, the answer obvious. "He said no," she guessed softly.

Ginny groaned, "he said he didn't want to marry Luna, but... He didn't want me either."

"He said that," she asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

"No, but what else could it be? Why won't he be with me?"

Clearly Hermione was the only one to possess logic. She'd rather believe that than to think she had not one romantic bone in her body. "He's head Auror, it would be horrible for him to give that up."

"Even for me?"

"This isn't a love story -"

"By hell it isn't! He doesn't want me enough!"

"He loves you."

"Not enough! I won't marry Malfoy, Hermione - I won't. I don't care about ending up in Azkaban, or about anything anymore, I won't marry him!"

"Don't do anything rash," she warned, but she was answered with a dead line. Ginny had hung up. Without a second thought she ran into the lounge snatching her cloak from the coat closet. Ironic it to be called a coat closet when it didn't hold one, only robes, and cloaks. Blaise followed her.

"What's wrong?"

"Ginny... I can't explain right now. I have to go see her." Before she could close the door he held his hand to the frame taking out his robe.

"I'm coming with you."

"That's not necessary." She could imagine the awkwardness that would bring. Ginny crying, Hermione comforting her as she used to before Harry realized his feelings for her, and Blaise standing there overlooking the scene. He wouldn't be helping, only a reminder of what Ginny had to look forward to.

It wasn't horrible, Blaise could've been a terrible husband, and in some ways she wished that he would be so she could be peaceful with being unhappy, but she wasn't. It was hard to be unhappy around him. It meant little however. There was a hole in her chest where she missed Draco. It would never go away.

He pulled on his cloak. "Hermione, you've done this most of your life - supporting them. Who's ever supported you?"

She threw on her cloak not looking him in the eye. "I don't need anyone supporting me."

He held her forearm his face close to hers stealing her gaze. "I won't be arrogant enough to say that you do, but you have it now. I will support you. Come on, lets not keep her waiting."

Hermione let him steer her to the fireplace where he threw in some Floo powder. Once Hermione called out Ginny's address they were swept into an inferno.

She had grown used to stepping out gracefully, but both her, and Blaise tripped colliding roughly with the carpeted floor, an off-shade of brown in their face. Blaise reached over for her hand.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm all right," she muttered looking down to their feet to see what they had fallen over. Newspapers. Stacks of them. When she went to sit up her knee hit a bottle which rolled, and clinked into another. Newspapers, and empty bottles of Fire Whiskey littered the floor of the flat that Ginny used to share with Harry.

By the crook of her arm Blaise helped her stand. She gaped at the lounge. Pictures that once covered the plain white walls were now lying in a heap on the floor. One was turned up, the glass broken, but she could see Harry scooping Ginny up in his arms. They were both laughing, flakes of white falling on them as they shared a short, but sweet kiss in front of the Burrow.

"Ginny," Hermione called, but there was no sound. She peeked into the kitchen to her right, and wrinkled her nose in disgust. There was a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, the trash overflowing, and a thick layer of dust on the table. "Ginny," she yelled becoming increasingly more frantic.

She checked the bedroom, every article of clothing she owned on the floor, the bedspread hanging half off. The bathroom was the only place that was semi-clean. Yet she didn't find her.

"This isn't good," she mumbled to herself running to the phone in the small hallway Blaise continuing to trail her.

"What do you think happened?"

"She ran away."

"How can she run away from her own flat?"

The receiver dangled from the hook. She picked it up punching the numbered buttons. "She didn't run from her flat, she's running from the Ministry."

"Who're you calling?"

"Harry."

"He's the head Auror!"

Intently she stared at him. "He'll be finding her as Harry, not as an Auror."

"But -"

"He's the best. Him, and Ron. They'll both find her." Harry's love, Ron's sister. They had to. Before it was too late.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Rain

Draco, Hannah, Blaise, and Hermione sat in the sitting room of Harry's new flat. Unopened boxes stacked in the corners of the room. It was an empty room void of a sofa, or anything a person would find in a home.

They all sat on the floor in silence waiting for Harry, and Ron to deliver news of Ginny. None of them looked at one another. Blaise stared off into the door-less archway to the kitchen. Draco was glaring at the front door as if expecting it to open. Hermione was looking at her hands. Hannah seemed to sense the tension in the room, and she too didn't look at any of them concentrating on the laces of her trainers. After twenty minutes Hermione broke the silence.

"So, um, Hannah, how are you and Ron doing?"

She smiled shyly, a light blush creeping on her cheeks. "He's very nice." She glanced from Blaise, to her, to Draco, back to her, and lowered her eyes to her laces again as if it was wrong to ask her how she was feeling. Hermione was grateful for that. She didn't want to answer how she felt. Lonely, hopeless, and guilty.

Then the door Draco was looking at so intensely opened. Harry stormed past them without greeting to the hallway. A door slammed furiously, and Hemrione could have sworn that the floor shook from the force. Then Ron his arm draped over Ginny came in. Her face was tear streaked, and pallid. Hermione jumped up and hugged her tightly. "Where have you been? You had us all so worried. Don't do this again!"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I just can't..."

Suddenly she was pried off of her, Draco coming close to her friend's face. "You can," he hissed. "You will."

Her eyes flashed. "Don't threaten me, Malfoy." Hermione saw her feeling her pocket where she usually kept her wand, but glanced to Ron who jerked his head down to his own. Two wands were in his belt.

"Oh, I'm not threatening you, Weaslette, I'm telling you what will happen."

"Draco," Blaise said in warning.

Draco went on like he hadn't heard. "We're not waiting to the last minute anymore. We're getting married. This Saturday. Hope you picked out your dress." He pushed past her roughly storming out similar to the way Harry had stormed in.

"Malfoy, don't you dare tell me what to do, you slimy ferret," Ginny screeched towards the door. "You evil Slytherin! You're disgusting! You're a sad excuse for a man! Do you hear me, Malfoy? You're evil! Pure evil, and I will never marry you!"

Hermione reached towards her, but Ron was there first holding her shaking body. "I've got her. Go after him," he jerked his head to the door.

She glimpsed at Blaise. He was interested in a scuff on his leather shoes choosing not to look at her. She wanted to say something to him, but she didn't know what.

She ducked out, running down the dimly lit hallway, down cracked steps, and outside where the wind whipped her hair into her face. She pushed it back, and saw Draco standing forlorn on the sidewalk his hands in his pockets watching the cars whiz by. Slowly she went to stand next to him.

Without looking at her he said, "the person who hates me more than anyone will be my wife. You're lucky Blaise loves you."

"Have you always known?"

"I suspected. He had a hard time keeping his eyes off of you," he smirked.

She felt tears burning her eyes. "I can't love him. I think about you. Every day. It's hard, it's like part of me is missing. It's this huge gaping hole, and no matter how sweet he is he can't fill it."

He slipped his hand in hers. "I feel the same." He laughed. "Well, no, I don't. Ginny will never be sweet to me."

"She might come around... See how great of a guy you are..."

He snorted. "That won't happen."

She squeezed, her eyes tightening to prevent the tears from falling. "You can be the only one for me."

"Same here, love." He pulled her to his chest resting his chin on her head. He stroked her hair pulling it back holding it in place. He rubbed her back as the tears broke through, falling. "I love you. I love you so damn much."

She constricted her hold on him. "Don't make me go back. Please."

"Don't beg."

"Please."

"Stop it, Hermione. Don't do this to me. It kills me when you beg like that, especially when I can't do anything. Know I love you. That will never change."

"I don't want to let go of you."

He tilted her chin up meeting their lips. Hermione pressed, but Draco was tentative, and too soon let go. She knew by the look in his eyes. It was their last kiss. There would be no more kisses, and caresses. She wiped her tears, and as Draco held a hand out to her she walked away. She would find a safe place to apparate back home. Home... She sobbed into her hand letting her hair stick to her wet face.

She walked in the blurry night staying on the sidewalk with care. The pressing wind stung her eyes, and dried her cheeks making them sticky. She wrapped her arms around her stomach holding herself upright with every strength she had.

Without thinking she walked into a dark alleyway. She apparated, the tight tube taking her breath away, and she was gasping when she landed in front of her home. Her insufferable home. She dropped to her knees her hands catching her fall. She dug her nails into the soil, and let out a strangled cry, her throat blocking her screams of pain.

The rain appropriatly dripped from her clothes. She was going to catch a cold, and she hoped she did. If she stayed out there long enough maybe she would become a puddle herself. She could dry up from the sun, or join a greater body of water, and travel. She could be the rivers, lake, or ocean. She could get as far as she could from her pain.

Someone then lifted her from the ground, their fingers digging bruises into her flesh, and by the strong scent of the intoxicating cologne she knew it was Blaise. She clung to him as he draped her over his arms carrying her into the house. Up the staircase, and into their room. He laid her gently on the bed where she instantly soaked it. He went to pry her fingers from his shirt, but she shook her head.

"Stay," she choked. "Please stay, don't leave me."

"Okay, Hermione," he soothed. "Okay, I won't. I won't ever leave you." He crawled in behind her snaking his arm over her waist, kissing the back of her exposed neck. "Never. You have my word."

Sometime during the night she recalled him stripping her, and drying her with a towel. She remembered being carried into the guest room across the hall where she slept the rest of the night while Blaise supposedly changed the soaked bedspread.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Hermione's Books

Every day after work Hermione spent devouring a nearby bookstore. She couldn't return home to look at Blaise, and know that she could never love him the way he loved her. The pain was getting stronger every second, and she felt like she was going to break apart at any moment. How Draco let her go was a knife in an infected wound. He was killing her. The law was killing them.

She took a section each day. Learning to speed read in Hogwarts came in handy, because she came to finish each section within a day. She had never felt so unsatisfied from doing so. Nothing was filling that hole in her chest - the one only Draco could fill. She had to be going slowly crazy, she once thought she saw Blaise watching her behind a shelf of books. Maybe all of her reading was finally effecting her as Ron swore it would. She laughed at that.

She stayed in the bookstore as long as she could. Draco, and Ginny's wedding was tomorrow. She shuddered at that. She stayed in the bookstore as long as she could. The workers literally had to make her leave, and what was worse was that they called her by name. So much for delving in one's sorrows, she in what was becoming meaningless words on thousands of pages, and little good it did when it was all she could do to hold herself together.

On Friday Hermione worked late making it impossible for her to visit the bookstore. She was fighting hard for the Centaurs who wanted the land that had been taken from them in 1315. Some days she felt like she was losing the case, that it was useless, but some days like that one Wednesday there was a ray of hope. She could do it, she already had three Wizard owners agree to a compromise. It was looking up.

Blaise laid on the sofa in the lounge. He closed the book he was reading setting it beside him, and motioned her over as she came through the fireplace. "How did it go?"

"Great, I think I'm making real progress!" She dropped her suitcase on an empty chair coming to stand by him. "My clients are thrilled! As thrilled as they can be," she chortled. Centaurs were rarely what she'd say 'happy.' "I think it'll work out, that I can make everyone pleased."

"That's wonderful, Hermione." He smirked mischievously. "Now, I have a surprise for you. Go up to our bedroom, dress in the attire I've laid out for you, and come back down here."

She raised a brow. "What are you up to, Zabini?"

"I said surprise. Go on now, _Zabini_."

She rolled her eyes at his use of her new last name, sighed, and went upstairs looking over the railing to give him a furtive glare which he returned slyly. She could hear him chuckle from the top of the stairs.

The forty candles were lit in their bedroom, there were no Muggle lights. They were rarely ignited, only at dusk when they prepared for bed, and that's where her eyes led: The bed. On it was a something dark, the flickering of the candles emitting it into shadow. It was a dress. The closer she got the more detail she could see. It was amazing.

It was a strapless red ruby ball gown, the bodice covered in small glittering jewels. She touched it. It was pure silk. She didn't understand what it was about, but she immediately started to undress, and sheathe herself in it relishing the feel of it on her skin. It fit perfectly.

With the help of her wand she smoothed her hair, and put it into a clip. She brushed on some light makeup. Then, because she couldn't help it, twirled in the full length mirror. She was as beautiful if not more so than she had been at the Yule Ball, even she would admit that, then again she had spent too much time in Draco's company. She might've been converted into someone as vain as him. No, that wasn't it.

Slowly she descended the stairs. Blaise waited for her at the bottom dressed in a black Muggle tuxedo. She saw his mouth forming the word, "stunning." He held out his hand. She took it.

"Ready m'dear?"

She giggled despite herself. "What is this about?"  
"In time you'll know." He tugged her down the last step, and pressed his front against her back covering her eyes with his hand.

"Blaise -" It was all she could get out because then she was being apparated taking her breath from her lungs.

She gasped when their feet connected with solid ground. She didn't like being apparated without being told. She didn't like not being in control. She expected Blaise to take his hand from her eyes, but he didn't, instead he moved them forward.

"Blaise, where are we?" Hermione stumbled, but Blaise held on to her arms preventing her from falling.

"You'll see. Only a ways more to go."

Using the only senses she had left she tried to identify where she was at. It was useless. There was the scent of jasmine, and the sound of trickling notes becoming louder. She could be in a million places.

"Where are we?"

"Hermione, you can ask a dozen times, but I'm not going to tell you. I said it was a surprise."

"Ready?"

"Yes," she sighed with irritation.

He released her, and she blinked her eyes becoming adjusted to what she was seeing.

It was a large ballroom, fairy lights twinkling above casting reflections on the glossy floor. Every wall was made of glass overlooking a near black sea. The music she was hearing was playing oddly from the glass. A lovely, and soft composition on a piano. Before she could gather herself Blaise took her hand again spinning her in a circle bringing her up to him.

"To answer your question, we're at a hotel of mine." He spun her once more. "To answer your other question, I want to do this for you." He held her close burying his face in the crook of her neck.

They danced through six slow songs. If it were possible the night had become darker eclipsing them. Hermione was finding it harder to breathe, it was as if his closeness, the culminate of the day was suffocating her. In reaction she didn't understand she hung to him. They danced in circles. Slower, and slower until they were just standing there in the midst of the floor embracing.

Hermione had her eyes closed tightly as if it would all disappear in a puff of smoke, and she would wake to find herself in her old home with Draco lying next to her. She could easily leave it to be a horrendous nightmare. She could tell Draco about it, and they could laugh. She wasn't so lucky for when she opened her eyes she saw the endless sea, and blackness. As far as she was concerned she was out there in its freezing depths drowning.

The cadence was sickeningly sweet as he pulled back, and got down on one knee. Her breath froze in her lungs, the blackness engulfing her mind. She wanted to beg him to stand up, to not ask her what it was she knew he was going to ask her, but she couldn't form the words.

"If I were to change our story, it would begin with me helping the Order. I would have secured your hand. Instead of being forced together by a law, and dancing here in result, we would be dancing here for another reason, an anniversary perhaps. La mia scelta, Hermione. You'll always be my choice." He reached into his pocket showing her a gleaming solitaire ring. "I won't ask you to marry me again," he stated sadly, "I know the answer it will be, but I want you to have this. When you want me, just say yes." He slid the ring on her finger, and got to his feet kissing her. "I love you."

She bit her lip keeping the tears away. "Take me home, Blaise."

Without questions, right there with his arms around her he apparated them. When they landed he turned her slowly around his hand over her eyes once more. "I have another surprise for you."

"Please, Blaise," she croaked. "No more."

"You're going to love this. Ready?"

"No."

"Okay," he let her go.

In the middle of the library she faced a brightly lit corner. A wooden sign hovered above the countless shelves reading "Hermione's Books." Underneath it was pots bolted to the wall, each of them filled with soil, the Tulips Draco gave her that she never grew thriving in their new home. She staggered over running her fingers over the titles, realizing that a lot of them were books she had picked out to read at the bookstore. She turned to him.

"You were watching," she accused, her voice steady. "That was you."

He snickered. "I thought you caught me, but since you never said anything I suppose you didn't."

"You bought all of the books I read, and grew my flowers?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He cocked his head slightly as if he didn't understand the question. "You're my wife, and those flowers were going to waste."

She shook hers. That wasn't the truth, she knew he was lying, and he knew that she knew. "_Why_?"

He sighed in frustration. "Imagine the person you love most in the world doesn't want you, but they're forced to be with you. They can't get over someone else, but you'll do anything to make them happy. I'm doing everything I know how, Hermione. If there's something you want, anything, I'll do it. Tell me what it is that I can do to make you happy."

Her just beating heart went out to him. she felt bad that she was making him so miserable. He was trying, and she was grateful, she was, but she couldn't get over Draco so easily. "Imagine marrying your loves best friend, and you'd do anything to get back to their friend, but they keep doing everything they know how to make you happy. If you couldn't be with me, Blaise, do you know how you would feel?"

His face contorted in rage, and she took a step back in response. She had obviously pressed the wrong button, one that she'd been pressing for quite a while. "Of course I'd know! I've been there - I'm still there! It's a nightmare, Hermione!"

A nightmare? Was she that bad to live with? Could he not comprehend? She bristled. "But you don't understand how guilty I feel," she shot, and this time he stumbled back. "If I could love you, I would, to make this all easier, but it's not the way it works." She ran a hand through her mane breaking strands free from the clip. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I wish -" She broke off at his unexpected hug. He held her tightly, kissing her cheek, ear, and hair.

"It's all right. It's all right. We'll just be friends."

She chuckled without humor. "Friends that are married, and have to make a baby together."

"Shhh," he soothed. "Don't worry about any of that now. Don't worry about any of it."

She encircled his waist. "I do love you, Blaise. As much as I can."

"I know you do. I'm just sorry it's not the way I want. I won't pressure you again. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It wasn't. Nothing would be okay.

A/N: This will have nineteen chapters. Nine chapters left to go.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The Malfoy Wedding

On the second floor of the Weasley's crooked home in the Burrow Hermione walked into Ginny's room. It hadn't changed from their Hogwarts days. There was still Quidditch posters taped to every wall, and the same desk marked with ink stains. Ginny sat on her unmade bed in the black dress she wore to Hermione's wedding that she promised she would wear to her own. Hermione laughed, and sat next to her smoothing her shimmering silver dress as she did.

Ginny didn't stir, she stared down at her matching heels avoiding the drawn window where it overlooked the white arc, and foldable chairs. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't allow Ginny, and Draco to marry in the Ministry, so she did a last-minute miracle conjuring everything and everyone up.

"Is he here," she asked. Hermione knew who she was referring to.

"He's in the back," she answered.

She nodded. "He once told me that he thought if he didn't survive Voldemort I would marry some horrible fellow." She laughed short, and choking, wiping away stray tears. "He's alive, and yet he was right." She looked up to her showing her red rimmed eyes. "How did you do this? How did you do this without hexing Blaise?"

Hermione laughed again. "I didn't hate Blaise, so there was no need to hex him. Honestly though, Ginny, I don't remember. I don't remember that day at all, and I'm sure you won't remember this one."

"I hope not."

"Ginny, promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't kill, Draco. Be as good to him as you can. Keep in mind that I do love him."

She huffed. "I can't make any promises, but... For you, I'll try."

Hermione took her cold hand, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

"Hey," George called from the doorway dressed in a black robe. "Let me talk to my little sister?"

"Sure," she said sliding past him, and going down the hall where she knew Draco was. She knocked on the twins old door that rattled on its hinges the result of countless explosions of test experiments. She poked her head through watching Blaise quietly console Draco from the beds on either side of the small room that still had burnt powder on the walls, and a hunk of carpet missing from quite possibly a fire.

She coughed to let her presence known. They looked up, and she noted how Blaise appeared to be at ease while Draco was sheet white, a stark contrast with his black attire.

"How's Ginny," Blaise asked.

"Upset."

Draco snorted. "Not the only one."

"Please, Draco," she practically begged. "Be nice to her."

He rolled his eyes upwards. "I don't make promises I can't keep."

"Funny," she retorted, "Ginny said the same thing when I asked her not to kill you."

"Always wanted to hear that my future wife had it in for me." For the first time he looked up to her. "Maybe not." He stood, and took her hands, his own shaking.

Hermione stiffened. "Draco, what are you doing?"

"Maybe Longbottom, and Looney had the right idea."

"Draco," Blaise barked angrily. "It's too late for that."

"No it's not," he said not taking his eyes off of her. "Hermione, we can leave. We'll have Weasley, and Potter fake our deaths, Blaise will smuggle us out of the country -"

"Like hell I will!"

Draco ignored him. "We'll figure something out."

She felt her face burn, and she snatched her hands from his in response. "It's just cold feet, Draco."

"It's cold everything!"

"That'll be a problem on the honeymoon," Blaise mumbled.

"Shove it, Blaise!" He took her hands again, this time tighter. "_Please,_ Hermione."

"You're begging," she asked incredulously.

"Yes!"

"Why? Why now? You didn't mind it too much when I married Blaise!"

"You think I didn't mind it? It nearly killed me! Look, I thought we didn't have a choice here, but I was wrong. We can defy the bloody Ministry, and we can be together. Let us be together, Hermione."

"I married Blaise. Now it's your turn to marry Ginny. We do what we have to. I won't lose you to Azkaban. I won't be apart from you like that. Suck it up, Malfoy."

He blanched from the use of his surname on her lips, something he hadn't heard since they were in school. "Hermione..."

"Don't beg. You know it hurts when you beg," she quoted him loosely. He recognized that his nails digging into her palms.

Blaise came up to them prying Draco's hands off of her. He didn't fight it, he let them fall to his sides, and returned to his seat pulling his baby soft hair from the roots.

"He'll be okay," Blaise assured rubbing her arm affectionately. "Lets go."

"No, you stay, I'll go." He didn't have time to argue with her, because she was out the door running down the hallway. She would have to re-do her makeup for her crying was ruining it.

She didn't get far when she bumped hard into someone stocky who held her up by her arms.

"Whoa," Bill exclaimed, the oldest of the six Weasley children. "Hold up there, Hermione, what's on fire?"

The whole world is what she wanted to say. She didn't. "It's nothing." Frantically she wiped her tears to see clearly. Bill was breathing heavily as though he had been running too, his scarred face screwed up in worry. "What's wrong?"

"Ummm..." He shook his head thinking twice of telling her, but then he pulled her into the room closest to them. His old room. She didn't have a chance to look around; he brought his face close to hers. "Ron's missing," he whispered.

"What?! How can he go missing at a time like this?!"

"Quiet, Hermione, I haven't told Ginny. Oh, she's going to flip when she hears this!"

"Did he say anything?"

"He said to wait."

"Have you told Mrs. Weasley?"

Bill cursed. "Maybe no on will notice!"

"Bill, he has to be here for his sister's wedding!"

"Dad has one of those Muggle devices running. He'll see it later." Bill cast frightened looks to the door as if scared that someone was listening in, most likely Ginny. "Listen, dad is downstairs waiting, everyone is going out to the garden. Get her ready, okay?" He ducked out to the hallway.

"Bill, you're chicken," she hissed after him.

Hermione bit her lip tasting her pink lipstick on her tongue. She didn't know what to do, there was no way she could go through with it, Ron had to be there it was only right. She wasn't contributing to the lunacy of his disappearance no matter how angry she was with him at the moment. Who skipped out on their own sister's wedding without telling anyone the reason? Then it occurred to her. Of course he would tell someone. Of course someone would know!

She rushed through the hallway, down the stairs skipping the one she knew creaked loudly. It was oddly quiet in the household. In the kitchen by the door leading to the garden was Mr. Weasley. He looked at her anxiously.

"Everything is okay, Mr. Weasley. I just have to speak to Harry real quick." Without waiting for a response she slowed to a walk outside trying not to alarm any of the guests.

Like she had told Ginny Harry was in the very back row. She placed a hand on his shoulder bending to whisper in his ear. "Where's Ron?"

He nodded in understanding, and stood taking her by the elbow back inside the house. They passed a pacing father who gave little notice to them, and went into the sitting room. He sat her on the couch holding her shoulders. "Ron's at the Ministry."

"Why? He can't possibly be working today."

"He isn't. Not really..." Harry got that expression he so often got when he was guarding something. She hadn't seen it since they were battling in the war, and that made her fearful more than anything. It dropped as quickly as it came. "We gave word that Ginny's wedding was today. They need records, you see. Anyhow, they called us in, but told one of us to stay to stall the wedding. Ron's one the family won't do without so he went."

"Harry," she said, her tone low.

"They are talking of abolishing the law. Ron's gone there to oversee things, only because he's attending a wedding today."

Her heart leapt. It was an understatement to how she felt. She was on cloud nine. Ginny wouldn't have to marry Draco, Ron wouldn't have to marry Hannah. Neville, and Luna could come back. Everything could go back to normal. She could divorce Blaise. She could marry Draco, have a real wedding. She inhaled a shaky breath. She couldn't jump to conclusions. It was too easy, too fast. It couldn't be real. "You mean that Ginny won't have to marry Draco?"

"No one will have to marry anyone anymore, but it's not official yet, not until Ron gets back with the news. We can't tell anyone."

"Ready, dear?"

Harry, and Hermione both jerked their heads towards Mr. Weasley's voice. Through the open door they saw Ginny looping her arm through her father's, her face re-applied of the make-up that had been washed by her sobs.

They jumped up, Harry running ahead of Hermione. "Ginny, wait!"

She stared blankly at him, like a zombie. Hermione recognized that look, the one she wore when she married Blaise. Ginny had broke down, her feelings deadened. She wasn't taking anything in.

"Why," she inquired, her voice dead as her features.

Harry glimpsed down to Hermione silently pleading for help. Ginny noticed the exchange, her eyes flickering from one to the other.

"Ron's not here," Hermione informed truthfully.

That seemed to break Ginny of her trance. It was replaced by fury. "What?! Where is he?!"

Harry staggered from her his hands in the air. "Draco cursed him."

Hermione glared at him. The nerve! She told the truth, and he lied! Whatever happened to telling partial truths? The man who defeated Voldemort when he was a mere teenager had trouble standing up to Ginny as an adult. The irony, but she couldn't blame him. Ginny was a terrifying Witch.

Mr. Weasley, Harry, and her watched as the bride stormed out of the kitchen, and into the garden. They followed her stopping at the end of the aisle. She marched towards Draco, who had gone from nervous, to suspicious, to frightened in two seconds flat. Ginny hitched up her dress where she hooked her wand in her blue garter, and pointed it at his chest. He backed into the young, and pimply Ministry official who used Draco to block himself. Blaise had safely moved behind the arch.

"What is she doing," George fussed in Hermione, and Harry's ears.

"Hexing, Malfoy," Harry told him, his joy, and pride ringing.

"She's going to hex an Un-armed man?"

"Un-armed?"

"I took every former Death-Eaters wand before they came in."

Hermione glowered at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't I? Ah, don't give me that look, Hermione, he's marrying my sister, I'm taking every precaution necessary. He'll be lucky if I ever give up his wand. He's lucky I didn't do it when he started seeing you."

They gave up any pretense of an argument to stare helplessly at the scene in front of them. Ginny's wand dug into Draco's chest, her eyes blazing burning holes into his skull.

"Guess what, Malfoy? You won't have to marry me, because I'm going to kill you, right here, in front of all these witnesses!"

"Would you want your ex-boyfriend to arrest you," he asked much lower, any fear he had of her gone in a flash of annoyance.

"I think we can all agree here that going to Azkaban would be better than being married to you!"

"Ouch, Weasley. Don't forget that you're best friend dated me."

"Oh, yeah," she laughed heartlessly, "I forgot. I made a promise to her not to kill you. There wasn't any talk about hexing though... How about I save the trouble of producing little monsters with you, and hex your –"

"STOP! Stop the wedding!"

Everyone turned to the new noise. Ron having apparated outside of the rickety gate came running in, panting, his face as red as his hair, his robe in disarray. He halted in front of Hermione, Harry, and Mr. Weasley his hands on his knees wheezing. "Stop," he gasped out.

Mr. Weasley patted his son's back. "What is it? Say it quickly or we'll have no groom."

"It doesn't matter," he beamed, straightening moving to face the shocked guests. He announced to them all, "it's official. The Department of Magical Law has abolished the marriage law!"

There was a second of silent comprehension of disbelief before the deafening uproar of sheer happiness. Hermione attempted to catch everyone's reactions. Ginny was wide eyed lingering in her astonishment. Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley (who sat in the front row) were in relief. Ron continued beaming happy to have delivered the news, but hugged, and kissed Hannah regardless. Harry was smiling wider than she had seen him in years gleaming over in Ginny's direction.

Of all the faces two caught her attention the most. Blaise, stunned, and heartbroken gazed at her. Draco hard, and intense. He pushed Ginny's wand out of the way, running up the aisle to sweep Hermione off of her feet into his arms stealing her mouth with his.

Nothing else mattered then. She was kissing Draco. She thought she never would again. She grinned against him, wrapping her arms over his neck holding him close. They clung to each other, barely able to breathe, but that was not important. She was kissing him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Signature

It was the oddest reception in history. In alternative of celebrating a wedding, it celebrated the lack of one. The guests danced, ate, and laughed. Ron, Hannah announced that their wedding was still on, and that was called as another reason to drink too much.

Harry, and Ginny existed on the edges of the party talking, and kissing. They were barely seen, and they obviously preferred it that way. Halfway into dusk they were gone from their post on the porch.

Hermione would have been happily in the midst of it all if she weren't torn between her loyalty as a wife to Blaise, and her love for Draco. They seemed to make her mind up for her. Draco pulled her onto the dance floor, and Blaise stayed in the shadows drinking himself into a stupor.

Ron explained to every one the reasoning behind the sudden change of heart of the Ministry (if it had one). Neville, and Luna weren't the only ones to go missing, many did, and most were taken to Azkaban, some volunteered to go in defiance of marrying their selected partner. It became too difficult to keep track of all the misconduct, and finally they decided that it wasn't worth it, that they would have better chance if the Wizarding society had their freedom.

When it was nearing one in the morning the party began breaking up. Draco and Hermione approached Blaise asleep and snoring loudly on the grass by the corner of the shed, his fingers still curled around a bottle of Fire Whiskey. Hermione touched his cheek, but he didn't wake.

Draco helped her get him home carrying him up the stairs to his bed. He asked her to come home with him.

Hermione had shook her head regretfully. "I should be here with him. I'm still his wife, Draco, and he needs someone."

He nodded understandingly. "Okay then."

Then there she was the next morning a seat next to the bed wiping Blaise's sleeping face. He would groan every few minutes as if on the verge of waking, but not doing so for another hour. When he did his eyes slowly adjusted on her, a slight surprise clouding over them.

She smiled half-heartedly. "Are you feeling all right?"

A low rumble erupted from his throat. "I feel like shit," he croaked.

"You look it."

He flinched at the level of which she spoke. "How odd, I always get told how handsome I am."

"Good to know you have your vanity in a hangover."

"If that impresses you, you should have seen me when I was drunk. I'm the hottest man alive."

"I saw you drunk. You weren't so impressive."

"You must be immune." He looked her over taking in her boxers, and too-big t-shirt that she changed into when Draco got him settled. She had also washed her face, and put her hair into a high ponytail. He grinned. "You stayed."

She avoided his gaze dipping the washcloth into the basin.

"You're not going to stay, are you?"

She reached for plum concoction she set out placing it in his hands. "Drink this, it will get rid of your hangover."

He clasped his hands over hers not letting her go. "You're divorcing me."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

She glared at him. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry that I'm hurting you like this. I'm sorry for what it's doing to you!"

"Then don't go!"

"How can you ask that of me?"

"You're my wife!"

"Not of my own will!"

He looked as if she casted an Unforgivable on him. His hands released hers. and she unsteadily got to her feet. He downed the potion, and slammed it so hard on the side table that it cracked the bottle. "How can you not love me?"

"I don't know," she murmured honestly. "You've been so wonderful to me."

"But it's not enough," he finished for her.

She bent, and kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes, and didn't open them when she walked out. She wanted to stay, to comfort him, but there was nothing to comfort him with, it would only hurt him further, and she had done enough damage. Any girl would fall head over heels for him, after all he had done for her, more than she deserved she couldn't give him the one thing he wanted. Maybe that was because she didn't have it. Her heart belonged to someone else.

Hermione steamed the bathroom down the hall. It burned her skin, but relaxed her tensed muscles. When she was drying off she succeeded in making the room smell of sweet honey and vanilla. She dressed in the clothes she laid out, jeans, and a yellow blouse. She pulled her wet hair into its ponytail, and walked to Blaise's room. She could say that now. His room. No longer hers.

He wasn't there, and neither was the rocking chair or any of her things aside from her suitcase was laying on the bed waiting for her, filled with all of her belongings. In the long hour she spent in the shower he had sent everything over to her home. Home. As lovely as it sounded even in her head it was bittersweet. She didn't want to cause Blaise such pain.

She went over to the suitcase latching it closed. She picked it up, and leisurely walked downstairs. Blaise was there by the fireplace, his face carefully passive. She didn't know what to say. Thank you seemed sardonic.

"I'm sure Draco's expecting you."

"Thank you for waiting for me." Yes, that seemed appropriate, and she swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitched sadly.

"Thank you for doing the best you could."

With one arm she hugged him. He didn't hug her in return, but stood there like a statue, or a soldier expecting an oncoming pain. She freed him quickly. She took off her rings putting them in his grasp, and nodded to him in way of goodbye because she didn't trust her voice not to break.

Blaise threw in the powder for her, and she left in a flame of green. She closed her eyes too soon to see him trembling.

Without her notice grates flew by, but as if she memorized the length of time it took between the two fireplaces she stepped out, and into Draco's arms. She didn't realize she was shaking with sobs. He rubbed her back, and kissed her hair.

Deep in her gut she knew. He had sent over everything else... "Where are the papers?"

"Do you want to sign them now?"

"I want this over with. This has been a very long dream..." She wanted to say nightmare, but she had nightmares. They involved war, dead friends, and Death Eaters. Not loving husbands.

"Okay." He led her into the kitchen to the table where the stack of papers laid with a Muggle pen. He sat beside her. "I looked them over. Blaise has cleaned it up nicely. There are no favors. It'll be as if it never happened."

She nodded numbly, and wrote her name on four different sheets, Draco holding each of them up as she signed, her neat signature becoming increasingly sloppy. When she signed the last one he held her as she buried her face into his neck.

"He'll be okay. It's not your fault."

"Then why do I feel so horrible?"

"He's your friend," he stated evidently before moving her from him. He took off his wedding band shoving it into her palm, and took off her necklace sliding the ring off of it, and dropping it in his pocket.

Hermione was startled in stillness. She wasn't sure if she was comprehending what was happening. He was taking off their rings. What did that mean? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out, so she shut it. She stared at the flowered designs on the tiles beneath them. If he decided to say something that broke her heart she didn't want to be looking at him, but he caressed her cheek capturing her attention against her determination.

"I should do this better, but if I don't do it now I'll lose my nerve later. I'm not losing you again, Hermione." He knelt on the floor, and her heart sped up. It went double time when he brought out a gorgeous diamond ring surrounded by tinier ones giving off a speckled glimmer. "Will you marry me? Legally this time."

She laughed in relief, and happiness. "Yes."

He slipped the ring on, and kissed her hard. He beamed at her. "This is selfish on my part, but I don't want to wait. Marry me tomorrow."

Kissing him once more, she said, "I don't want to wait either. Tomorrow it is."

A/N: The drama isn't over. Seven more chapters.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Ten Hours

"Hermione, you simply can't wear your old wedding dress!

"Why not?"

"It's tainted!"

She laughed. Hermione laughed a lot lately. She laughed at every one of Draco's jokes, at how the sun blinded him that morning at breakfast. Somehow in the little time she had been gone she'd forgotten that. She seemed to have been repressing a lot more than she thought, and she was glad that it was over.

Ginny was glad it was over too. She never said anything, but Hermione could tell. Like her she was laughing a lot. Everyone was.

"It's not funny, Hermione."

She thought it was. It might have been bad luck, or extremely bad taste to wear the same dress she wore at her last wedding, but Hermione had enough bad luck. It was time for some good. "Ginny, don't you remember? You said it was tainted when I cried in it, that's the reason we bought it."

"But you aren't marrying Zabini anymore!"

"Yes, I'm marrying a second time to his best mate." She found a lot of irony in that statement.

Ginny jumped off of Draco and Hermione's bed crossing her arms over her chest surveying the plain dress Hermione was smoothing on the bed. "You're marrying who you want to, this calls for another shopping trip!"

She laughed again, the sweet sound. "Your mum taught you how to sew, right?"

"Of course."

Carefully she picked up the dress laying it in her arms. "Do what you can to make it look different."

"Are you not telling me something? Have you quit your job? Don't you have any money for a new dress? I'll give you some. Harry, and I have more than we know what to do with. We don't mind."

She sighed becoming agitated. "No, I have not quit my job, and I haven't been fired either, and for the record I'm richer than both of you. You're forgetting Draco has an endless supply."

"Of course they haven't fired you. Seriously," she rolled her eyes, "you're their best lawyer. But -"

"Look, Ginny, I've had my ceremony. Blaise gave me a beautiful one – in Italy no less. I want to marry Draco in a quiet, subdued setting without any fanfare."

"You wouldn't let us throw you a bachlorette party. Is that still standing?"

"Yes, and there's no time, I'm marrying him in…" She looked to her watch. "Ten hours."

Ginny glared. "We'll see if there's time."

Hermione smirked. "It's lunch time, are you hungry?"

"As hungry as Ron." She laid the dress on the bed with distaste. "Oh, and why does it smell like roses in here again?"

She walked out of the room to hide her snicker, Ginny calling behind her in a singsong voice. Hermione went into the kitchen where an Owl swooped in through the open window carrying three letters. The Owl dropped them, his yellow eyes piercing her menacingly, and flew out again. Obviously it didn't want a response back. She opened the first one.

_Hermione,_

_How dare you wait until the last minute! I will not have you marry in a Ministry Official's office anymore than I will let Ginny. You'll get married here, we'll use Ginny's decorations, I'll cook the food, and the cake, I've already written Harry, he's finding someone to do the wedding tonight, and I've contacted your parents. They'll be here shortly to help with things. I'm so disappointed in you, Hermione! We want to be apart of this, and we will be. Relax, everything is under control._

_Molly_

Even though Mrs. Weasley wasn't there yelling – lecturing her in person she still made Hermione flinch. She didn't want to hurt anyone, especially her parents, but one ceremony was enough to last her a lifetime. She didn't need, nor want another one. Marrying Draco was the best thing she could ask for anyway. Hopefully she would have time in her hectic day to apologize to her parents.

Ginny who was busy putting together the bread, and meat glanced at her, and chortled as if pleased. "Mum got to you too?"

"You have a big mouth."

Ginny beamed.

Hermione only told Ginny so that she could keep her company during her nervous ten hours until the wedding. She didn't even plan on Ginny going with her. Sometime during that morning, maybe when Hermione was in the bathroom her friend sneaked off to write Mrs. Weasley, who naturally told everyone as Ginny knew she would.

She opened the second letter.

_Hermione,_

_I've found you a Minister. I originally went to the one that was going to do Ginny's wedding, but when he heard that it was the same groom he squeaked, and disappeared. I found another, he's nice._

_I don't know what you were thinking. How you could imagine telling Ginny, and manage to marry without all of us there is beyond me. We both know that you won't be able to escape her today, so good luck, and don't worry about a thing, the rest of us are handling it._

_Harry_

She ripped open the envelope to the third, and final letter.

_Hermione,_

_I have Draco here with me for the day. Congratulations._

_Blaise_

There was something unsatisfying about that letter. It was short, dry, and unhappy. She threw them all into the rubbage bin. She wasn't going to let anyone bring her down. It was her wedding day, she was going to enjoy herself.

"I have a plan," Ginny announced setting the plates on the table as they sat down to eat. "We're going dancing."

Hermione ready to protest had Ginny interrupt her.

"No, we're going. That's final. You have ten hours of freedom, and we're going to use them."

"You said you would help with my dress."

"We'll be back in plenty of time," she waved her hand dismissively.

And they were, her, Ginny, and Luna with four hours to take a bath, dress, and put on a dab of makeup.

Hermione soaked in the tub of the Weasley's home while Ginny, and Luna dealt with her dress. She would admit it to Ginny later that it was a good idea. Dancing wore her out, made her become numb. It helped her take her mind off of the others planning her wedding for her. She couldn't refrain from worrying about it.

When she came out in a towel Ginny, and Luna were standing with the unrecognizable dress between them. For a moment Hermione thought that they had went out, and bought another one, but it was indeed the same plain dress only it wasn't plain anymore.

The light shining from the window caused the adorned crystals to flash rainbow-like glitters on the walls. They were all sewed on in flowers, and vines, the sleeve cut short to frill out over her shoulders.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She hugged her friends tightly.

"No problem," Ginny said pulling back, and holding out her dress. "Put it on, and we'll do your hair, and makeup."

Hermione looked over herself in the mirror, her hair down in ringlets, her dress she noticed then hemmed to her knees. Her shoes were ballet style, cords wrapping themselves up her legs. She looked like a fairy princess. She felt beautiful.

"Hermione, sweetheart!"

She turned to the door. "Mum! Dad!" She hugged her parents happily. "I'm sorry," she said immediately the guilt bubbling up. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it was supposed to be private."

Her mother felt her hair, and her shoulders. "I came here to help, and to give you a stern lecture, but…" Tears welled up in her eyes. "You're so lovely I can't."

"You are," her father said choking a bit.

Hermione hugged them again. "I'm glad you're here." And she was. She needed them there with her more than she realized.

She looked a bit like her parents in equal parts. She had her mother wild hair, but her mother's was a dark blond, whilst Hermione had her father's dark brown. She had her mother's shaped eyes, but again, her father's color.

The rest of the time went smoothly knowing her parents were nearby, and supporting her, but the day soon became a haze in nervous jitters.

The garden of the Weasley's home was titivated in Ginny's old wedding decorations. There was the arc, and the foldable chairs. Hermione had watched Harry, George, Ron, and Percy put the last finishing touches such as flower petals for the aisle. She could see that it was Roses. She bet that Draco had something to do with that, and it made her smile. She turned away when they began throwing gnomes.

The nearer the wedding, the hazier everything became. She was on autopilot.

She remembered her father walking her down the aisle. His hand was shaking as it looped through hers.

She kept her sight filled with Draco's joyful smile. It looked like it would burst into a million golden rays at any moment. It made her feet move, determined to get to him. She successfully ignored Blaise next to him as the best man. He looked like he would hurl.

She didn't remember saying her vows. Vaguely she remembered exchanging their rings. The kiss is what she remembered the best. It was like a person dying of thirst coming across an ocean of sparkling water. They drunk each other in.

The reception sadly was a blur. The arc was gone, the foldable chairs in circles around tables that held the roses, and an area opened for dancing, and the cake was delicious. But it was Ginny's toast that she recalled with clarity, not only for the words but for the loud applause it earned.

"I don't have to go into where I met these two. Both at school. Both smart earning the top marks. Both annoying. Both oddly perfect for one another. No one expected them to marry, but I'm glad they did. Most of all I'm glad that the marriage law didn't last, because right now I'd be married to the git, or in Azkaban for murdering him. So this toast is with my sincere happiness for you two, for me, and for everyone else. Cheers."

There was something else that stood bright in her memory possibly for how uncomfortable it made her.

Draco, and her shared their first dance. Elegant Draco knowing his steps while Hermione followed as well as she could was only a little embarrassing. Then her father danced with her worse than her stepping on her toes frequently until he gave way to Harry, then Harry to Ron, then Ron to George, and George to Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Weasley to Percy, and Percy to Draco.

He embraced her shortly before someone tapped him on the shoulder, that person being Blaise.

"Mind if I dance with my former wife?"

Draco bristled at his term, but nodded kindly, kissed her cheek, and let Blaise take over.

He kept distance between them, her hand on his shoulder, and his other holding hers. It was so proper it would have been funny if they hadn't been so serious.

"I'm happy for you," he told her quietly, but loud enough for her to hear above the sweet music that one of them must have found in her collection.

"Thank you, and thank you for being Draco's best man. It meant a lot to him."

"I was happy to do it…" He huffed. "Okay, I wasn't, but he's my best mate. He stood up at ours. It was only polite to do the same for him."

She balanced herself on the tips of her toes, and kissed his cheek. "The law is over, and you're free to marry anyone you like. You'll find someone who is a lot better suited for you than me. Everything will work out the way it's supposed to."

"It's easy for you to believe that, Hermione. You have what you wanted. I had to give mine away." He glanced over at Draco waiting by the tables. "I know how he felt watching you marry me. I thought I did, but now I truly know."

"I'm sorry, Blaise." She said sorry to him so many times, but it never seemed to be enough, not for him, but for her. She felt a slight twinge of guilt when she thought of him, and seeing him was worse.

He kissed her cheek in return. "I'll try to believe that it'll work out too."

And then she was back dancing with Draco as if nothing happened. Draco didn't ask her what was said, and she didn't volunteer. He pretended as if he didn't know, though she knew he did.

Hermione had a beautiful wedding in Italy in a grand hotel. Then she had one in the garden of the Burrow with stray gnomes walking back into the vegetable patch. It may have been odd, but she preferred the latter, for the first - though every girl's dream - she wasn't marrying who she wanted, and the last she was marrying exactly who she wanted in a place that was familiar, and everyone was happy.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Just Like The Ministry Wanted

The next morning the brightness of the day pooled onto the wooden floor of Draco, and Hermione's home. Her first thought was that she was married. She felt the rings on her left hand, and beamed. She was married to Draco. She was Mrs. Malfoy.

The feeling of elation however didn't last long when she was instantly with the knowledge that she didn't feel good, her stomach rolling a few times, the room spinning before she rushed to the bathroom slamming the door shut. She held onto the cold toilet as she threw up any contents that were in her belly.

Soon Draco was rapping against the door. "Hermione? Are you feeling ill?"

"Yes," she gasped, her knees digging into the tile floor, but she didn't dare move from her position in case the room spun again. She hoped Draco wouldn't open the door, she didn't want to be seen like she was.

"Should I cancel our trip?"

That was right... She almost forgot... Their honeymoon. Harry gave him the week off for them to go to Iceland, and her boss had been ecstatic to let her have some time off with all of the work she did for the firm. She desperately wanted to go, but as she leaned over the toilet again it was set. "Please. I'm sorry. I can't."

Minutes later she was vigorously brushing her teeth. She decided to take a shower, and dress in fresh clothes. When she came out she saw Draco adorned in his usual black attire standing from his seat on the bed. He held out his hand for her to take which she did. "We're going to St. Mungo's," he explained seeing her curious expression.

"It's food poisoning, I'm sure." That was a lie as everything was very well cooked last night, Mrs. Weasley had been sure of it.

"You're sure, but I'm not."

"I'll take a potion. We can still go to Iceland. Just let me –"

"Come on," he ordered harshly pulling her down to the lounge, and into the fireplace. She didn't have time to argue with him, she was busy being swept up in emerald fire.

They stepped out into the foyer of St. Mungo's, Hermione catching her breath. "This is unnecessary," she told him harshly.

He tugged her over to one of the chairs set aside for waiting pushing her in it. "You're green, Hermione. Stay here while I sign you in."

"I can do it myself!" But she was talking to no one, he was already walking towards the counter where an elderly woman sat doodling on some papers.

St. Mungo's wasn't very busy. Across the room there was a man with an over-sized teapot stuck on his head. A woman hiccuping frogs beside him, a Healer with sweat spotting his scarlet face chased after one that escaped. It was more or less normal for St. Mungo's.

Draco came back taking her hand once more, and directing her after a young Healer that waited by the double doors that separated the entrance from the hospital. She took them down the softly lit hallway lined with moving pictures of passed Healers yelling out remedies to them. She was relieved when they went into a room away from it, with the door shut it almost blocked out the noise completely.

With Draco sitting at the bedside Hermione lied down while the Healer, a woman with golden highlights in her otherwise raven hair performed many complicated wand movements over her. She nodded, and hummed to herself which seemed to irritate Draco as he sneered visibly in her direction. Hermione stared up at the ceiling counting the cracks. There were three small ones, and one larger one in the corner. _Someone should fix those,_ she thought idly trying to keep any ideas that Draco knew something she didn't. He acted very odd as if he was expecting something…

Then the Healer smiled. Draco's sneer faded into discomfort, and Hermione furrowed her brows as the Healer placed her wand back into the pocket of her lime green robe. "Congratulations Mr., and Mrs. Malfoy. You're pregnant."

Two words, and Hermione's newly patched world came to a screeching halt. She was whiplashed by the blow of the thought she had next. _It's too early. It's not Draco's. Just like the Ministry wanted. I'm having Blaise's baby._

Hermione didn't really feel it, but she knew that Draco had taken her hand. Blankly they looked at each other. Silently she begged him to say something to break the rousing stillness. Neither of them noticed the Healer gone.

"Draco... What do we do?" She could feel the tremble in her voice.

He shook his head coming out of his reflection. He squeezed her hand. "Tell Blaise."

"Then?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I never imagined... I assumed... You two... I should've... You two..." He groaned. "I had a feeling this morning…"

She inspected his features as pale as the day of his and Ginny's wedding. She wondered if he was going to be sick. She gripped his hand, unyielding. "Don't leave me, Draco." She heard her voice break, but didn't feel it. She was dull to everything. The smell of the multiple potions that could give someone a headache, and at the same time make them grow exempt to it like the blindness of the white walls. She was completely dull, and she steeled herself for the oncoming realization to hit her. She knew it would.

He glimpsed up surprised. "No, Hermione, I'm not leaving you." He placed his other hand on her stomach. "I'm not leaving either of you."

"You don't hate me?"

"For sleeping with your husband?" He chuckled, "silly Witch. I didn't want to think that you did, but how could I expect less? I'm not happy about it… I wish it were mine, but we both know it's not… It's a blessing though - nonetheless - that's how we must look at it."

She sighed, inhaling a lung-full of air before asking the next question that was on her mind. "Will Blaise hate me?"

Draco laughed harder at that. "For giving him a child? I don't think so. Blaise wants to be a father. If it's by you it's a bonus."

"But we're not married anymore."

"That doesn't matter when you're sharing something like this with him."

"I'm not, I'm sharing it with both of you." She kissed his cheek hastily catching the downward curve of his mouth. "He's the father, and you're my husband. You're going to be a father too."

His smile was sad. "I'll love the child as if it were my own. After all, I already love its mother."

"You really do, don't you?"

"The moment you ordered mocha."

She whimpered still reeling from the news, and he kissed her like two days ago when he proposed. It was hard, rough, completed with need, and want. She kissed him back putting as much feeling as she could in it stamping her rampent emotions of worry, love, and excitement in it. She could feel his. Despair with a touch of reluctant acceptance.

A/N: Draco appears to be handling it very well, but I can assure you that he's extremely scared. He's good at hiding that, and it helps that he sees it at being fair. Him, and Blaise both got half of what they wanted, he has Hermione, and Blaise will have part of a family.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

The Hardest Part

Draco and Hermione sat on the leather sofa in Blaise's lounge. It smelled faintly of alcohol. There was no need to suspect that he had been drinking, because it was fairly obvious. She didn't need the glimpse under the sofa to see the hidden Fire Whisky bottles.

Draco held her hand lacing their fingers as they surveyed Blaise. He had sat still like a perfect carving of a sculpture for ten consecutive minutes in the chair across from them. She never saw anyone sit that way before in absolute shock, not even the people who posed as statues for a living. He was beginning to worry her, but when she went to go to him Draco constricted his hold keeping her beside him. He shook his head slightly in a way that told her that Blaise needed time to absorb the information. She personally understood that as she had yet to absorb it entirely. It hadn't hit her yet, becoming a mother. She doubted that it hit Draco either.

Two more minutes passed. Then Blaise spoke, his voice low, and rough. "I'm the father..."

"Blaise, you don't have to be involved in any way," she assured him quickly wanting it desperately off her chest. She didn't want a father for her child that wouldn't be there, she didn't want that father to have regrets, and she didn't want the broken hearts it would sure to cause.

He narrowed his eyes at her. There was frustration in them, but most of it was anger. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm just saying that you don't have to have anything to do with the child. Draco and I will raise him, or her -"

"No!" He stood from the sofa lines etched into his handsome face. "This is my kid, and I will be apart of their life." His glare turned from Draco to her softening as it rested on her flat stomach like an x-ray vision able to see what was beneath. He froze into the statue again. For three long minutes he stood then he thawed, his features relaxing. "I'm going to be a dad," he said faintly, but with a real sense of pride.

"So you're okay with this?" Hermione asked hopefully standing gradually with Draco. They were ready to celebrate or bolt depending on his following reaction. Draco's hand still held hers. She was beginning to lose feeling in her fingers, but she didn't pull away.

"More than okay, Hermione, I'm... Happy. This is great!" He hugged her enthusiastically lifting her nearly off of her feet breaking her grip of Draco's hand with ease. "Are you," he asked in her ear. "Are you happy too?"

"Yes," she answered honestly. It may not have been Draco's, but it was a baby - her own baby. If anything good came out of the marriage law it would be that bundle of joy she would hold in her arms in eight months.

Blaise released her turning to Draco as if seeing him for the first time. "Are you okay with this, mate?"

He jerked his shoulders. "It's scary that a reproduction of you will be running around, but..." He smirked. "Lets hope that it has Hermione's brains."

They laughed, but Blaise was the first to stop. How easy it was, was remarkable. "Really, mate. This can't be easy on you."

"It's not," he admitted sullenly. "But I'll survive."

He nodded. "You'll be a father too, you know. The baby will know you as much as it knows me. I'm okay with that if you are."

"Consider it the wedding present I never got you," Draco told him bleakly.

He grinned once more changing the atmosphere. "Tell her that when she's fat."

Abruptly she was brought out of her worried stare at Draco to become indignant at Blaise. "Hey," she scolded. "I will not be fat!"

Draco caressed her lower back. "He said that, love, not me."

They laughed with ease, and Hermione felt immensely thankful, and somewhat surprised. It worked out better than she would have dreamed. Blaise was ecstatic to have a family, and Draco... Draco was taking it with grace that she didn't know him capable of.

They would make a good family, the three of them. Their child would never be more loved, or more safe. However, the hardest part was to come. She had to tell her friends. She had no idea how they would react, and that was scarier than anything.

As if sensing her thoughts Draco kissed the top of her head. "It'll be all right, Hermione. They'll be okay with it."

She gazed up at him. "Like you?"

His expression turned hard. "We've discussed this. I'll love the kid because I love you. That's all there is to it. I'll get used to the idea. Everything will turn out great."

Blaise slipped a hand in hers. "You'll always have us."

Despite that Hermione waited until that Friday to give the news, when she met up with all of them at Harry and Ginny's flat. The newspapers, bottles, and dust were gone. The once shattered photos in the corner were on the walls as if they had never been taken down. It was cleaner, and tidier, everything back to where it was before the marriage law took place. Almost like nothing happened.

Hannah sat shyly with Ron on the couch, Luna and Neville beside them connected by their tangled fingers. Harry was in one of the chairs with Ginny on his lap, and Hermione relaxed alone in the other.

"Hermione," Hannah said calming after a joke Ron told about a man in their department. "Where's Draco?"

"We don't invite him," Ron told her naturally. Smugly.

Hermione chortled in good nurture. "It's not that they have a choice. Harry invited him once, but Draco doesn't want to come."

"Oh..."

"It's all right," Harry shrugged. "We like the no Slytherin policy. It works well."

"He's an Auror, isn't he?"

"He qualified for the job, and Harry doesn't hold enough of a grudge to turn him down." Ron rolled his eyes. "I think having the Dark Mark should be a good reason, but nooo."

"Ron," Hermione rebuked, but was too used to it to give energy in telling him off entirely. She leaned back, a hand on her stomach subconsciously. She didn't know when she started the gesture.

Luna cocked her head at her with a smile. "I think Hermione has something to tell us."

She widened her eyes in surprise, everyone's on her expectantly. She momentarily forgot how perceptive Luna was. The way she saw the world was different from others, and in return she saw things that others didn't. Hermione wished more than once that she could see what she did.

She took a breath readying herself. There was only one way to go about it, and that was clear and cut. If she beat around the bush she would never get it over with. "I'm pregnant," she said.

Silence. They all looked uncomfortable, a few shifting in their seats. The air was thick making it a little hard to breathe. Not one of them looked at her.

She was taken aback. She thought at least Ginny would squeal. Did they already know? Surely Blaise wouldn't tell them, he never spoke to her friends. Draco especially would have no reason to make this harder on her.

"What is it?"

Ginny looked once to Harry and then to her. Harry - pale and sickly was avoiding her gaze. "Ummm..."

Hermione studied her carefully. Since her failed wedding Ginny had gone back to her usual happy self. Harry had brought the light that left her features that so often lit any room she was in. It was disconcerting that Hermione couldn't see anything past the apprehension. Ginny was always so good at hiding things, she was the best liar out of all of them.

"What is it," she asked again.

"It's Blaise's, isn't it, Hermione?"

She stiffened. "Yes."

Ron dipped his head low hiding his scarlet face unsuccessfully. "What does Malfoy think of that?"

Comprehension dawned on her. "Is that it? You think this is something to mourn?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "No, not something to mourn, but... How is it going to work?"

"They'll both be father's. We'll all be a family."

"What a happy little family," Ron remarked. "You, your ex-husband - who you never loved - and Draco. Nice."

She lurched to her feet angrily. "Can't you be happy for me?"

"If you're happy, then yes, but are you, Hermione?" Ginny stared at her intensely as did Ron.

Slowly she nodded. "It's not an ideal situation. If it was there would have never been a marriage law, and this baby would be Draco's. As it is, I'm happy. I'm not going to be upset about a life. This baby is mine."

Ginny leapt up, a new look about her. "That's all we need to know." She embraced her. "I'm going to be an aunt!"

Hermione beamed. There was the squeal she was looking for. She hugged each of them as they gathered around her, the boys kissing her cheek.

Luna with her dreamy expression asked, "what will you name the baby?"

Ron huffed. "Lets see, what would three people whose names are Hermione, Draco, and Blaise call a baby?"

Hermione slapped his arm playfully. "Do you want to talk about your middle name, Ron?"

"What is it," Hannah asked curiously while Ron gave her a warning glaze.

"Bilius."

Hannah giggled, Ron turned beat red. "Thank you, Hermione!"

"That'll teach you not to make fun of our names!"

Harry laughed deeply. "Do yourself a favor, Hermione, and name the baby after me. It'll be very normal."

Luna fiddled with the bottle cap around her neck. "Can we do that? I'd like my name considered. It's quite lovely. My father said that the most beautiful thing that could be seen was the moon."

Hermione shook her head. "For the sake of all of our friendships, I won't name the baby after any of you."

They all looked scandalized, but laughed in spite of themselves.

"This calls for a round of Fire Whiskey," Ron pointed to Hermione, "Butterbeer for you."

A/N: It went smoothely, yes, but keep in mind that it wasn't a scandal.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

A Little Kick

Seven months later the small bump was clearly visible, and Hermione was glowing. The moment that she felt the baby kick (Draco and Blaise fighting over the dinner table to feel it too) the realization hit her. She was going to be a mother. It was an overwhelming feeling, she was scared, and excited at the same time, and she was actually enjoying the pregnancy. She wasn't as big as many girls became, there was no waddle in her step.

Along with Draco and Blaise she decided to wait until the birth to see if the baby was a boy or a girl. Blaise was hoping for a boy, Draco a girl, and Hermione honestly didn't care. They had agreed on two names, one for a boy, the other for a girl. It wasn't hard to choose as all three of them didn't agree on many.

That was an unannounced deal between them. Draco would be involved on every detail. It was easy when Blaise and him continued their friendship faithfully. Blaise seemed very content with the fact that he had something of her to call his own. It worked out better than any of them expected. All of them were very thrilled about the prospect of raising a little one.

Blaise practically didn't live in his house anymore. When he wasn't working he was there cooking them meals, cleaning the house, not allowing her to do a thing. She complained to Draco about this many times, but he just chuckled and told her to enjoy it while it lasted, because soon enough none of them were going to get much sleep. She knew that Draco felt the same way however for she heard them arguing one night when she came home from work.

"That's my child in her!"

"She's _my_ wife!"

"What affects _your_ wife affects the baby! Therefore everything she does is my business."

Draco huffed indignantly. "It's not customary for the father of the baby to live with the mother and her _husband_."

"Haven't you noticed, nothing about this is customary."

Then things went quiet, and their voices became softer. Hermione didn't want to eavesdrop but her feet moved towards the hallway without a thought on her part. She had been around Harry and Ron too long for her own good.

"Please Draco, I want as much part in this as I can."

"Suppose we should get used to it. Family, and all. But you're talking with Hermione yourself."

"Deal."

She had hurried out of the hallway to the kitchen, but as they came out and saw her Blaise looked worried, and she swore she saw a proud twinkle in Draco's eye. She bit her lips and blushed.

When Blaise sweetly asked her if he could move in she couldn't say no. She didn't want to break his spirit. Things were going too well to mess up then, and Draco seemed to understand that for he didn't fight with once about it, he even helped in moving a few of Blaise's belongings to the guest bedroom.

A week before Hermione's eighth month mark they had gone out to pick out things for the nursery. Hermione didn't agree, not in the least, that the color theme should be green. They bought it while she looked at baby clothes. They did it to get on her nerves, but later on with their smiles and pleads that they keep the cob, the rocker, the curtains, sheets, and everything else, she gave in. She could always change it by magic when they weren't looking though she had yet to do so.

Then she found herself with Blaise called away by an urgent business matter in France. Harry tried to get Draco out of it, but he was made to work undercover in Ireland. That left Hermione to do the nursery by herself, and she hated the green colors even more.

Hermione studied the sheet explaining the "basics" for putting together the cob. She tried it by magic twice, but she was so upset that she just couldn't do it. Her hormones were on over-drive, and with Blaise and Draco gone it only irritated her further.

When the leg fell off for the third time in a row she heard, "looks like you can use help."

Hermione spun to see Harry standing over her. She jumped to her feet (as fast as she could with the baby) and threw her arms around him. "Oh, Harry, thank goodness you're here!"

"Hey now," he said patting her back sympathetically. "It's only a cob."

"It won't work!"

"Hermione, take a break. Take a bath, I'll get this together for you. You need to rest."

"I wish everyone would stop saying that," she snapped stepping away. Blaise and Draco had both been begging her to take off of work, and even her boss was practically demanding her to. She simply refused, if she didn't she would sit worrying about the birth the whole time. She had to keep her hands, and mind busy. She handled things better that way.

"I'm only saying that it would be better for the baby and you if you weren't trying to handle everything on your own. Harry sighed as if reading her mind. "Take a book. Not one about births, or swollen ankles -"

"My ankles aren't swollen!"

He groaned rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Just go, Hermione. Let me do this for you. You're already going to accuse me of not picking out the baby shower gift."

"Did you?"

"No, Ginny did."

She kissed his cheek. "Thank you for buying it."

"That would be right," he smirked. "Now go on, do what you can to relax. I'll take care of this, don't worry about a thing."

She smiled, kissed his cheek again, and left to her bedroom to get an innocent book. She found one of ancient spells and took it to the bathroom. She ran lukewarm water, and did as Harry asked of her. She relaxed. She ran her hand over her belly. She felt the baby kick against her hand like he, or she wanted to say hello, or say that Uncle Harry was right. She sighed in contentment. Her, and her baby. They would both unwind. Perhaps she would go through with it all the way, and take off work for a while. She was going to when she gave birth, anyway. She loved her job, but she loved the baby more, and she wanted time with him, or her, she would never focus on her cases otherwise.

Hermione read her book, but being the woman she was she only got as far as twenty pages before she could stop herself from wondering how Harry was doing. He had never put a cob together. Mr., and Mrs. Weasley had. The four times they were able to afford new ones. She should've called them, but in her defense she didn't call anyone for help. _That was worse,_she thought. She wondered who did call Harry though... That answer was easy. Her boys. Of course, no doubt that Blaise and Draco would call him. It probably killed them to ask him for a favor, but they'd make an exception for her sanity. She laughed aloud at that.

The baby kicked again, and she let her book fall to the edge of the tub, and brought herself out. She wrapped herself in a towel. The moment she opened the door Harry was there, his face frantic.

"Hermione! I have to go - been called in - it's all okay - I'll be back - don't worry." He touched her shoulder lightly, and disapparated on the spot.

Her breath was taken from her as her mind reeled to catch up to what she saw, and what she heard. She tried to work it out, but it was like trying to work out a spiders web. You felt like there was piece you were missing, clinging to your finger, but unable to see it. What was it that she was missing?

She took a peek into the baby's room to see if there was any sign of an answer there, but all she saw was the slanted cob, two of its legs lying beside it. "What am I missing," she muttered to herself as her baby kicked her. It was as though her baby knew the answer, and it struck her odd and frightening that maybe the baby knew something she didn't. Maybe he, or she was trying to tell her something all along, but could she be reading too much into a little kick?

Hermione sat herself in the rocker, the only piece of furniture that was assembled. She waited. For what she didn't know. She went through possibilities in her head, but she wouldn't remember one of them, she fell asleep in the rocker having the most vivid dream she's ever had.

_"See to the back, Malfoy. I got them here." Harry held his wand steady at the door. It was a run down house, the wood near black with age and neglect. It set near the thickened woods of a nameless place._

_"Right," Malfoy called disappearing behind the house, his wand too held high._

_Harry blew open the door. Instantly red, yellow, and green sparks flew everywhere, blinding Hermione's 'vision' as she looked on the scene. The colors faded. Death Eaters with their hard bone masks, and black cloaks were everywhere. Then they were gone, and running from the corner of the house was Malfoy. He screamed, an awful sound she never heard from him before. It was strangled, a cry, but a yell, it echoed off of the trees._

_"HARRY!"_

_It took her off guard. Draco never called him by his given name. Never. It sent a sharp fear of jolt through her, then despair as she saw her best friend on the grass, not moving. His eyes were open, staring at the sky blankly, his face blackened with explosives, his glasses broken, and lopsided on his face. It was worse than when she saw him supposedly dead in the war. She waited for him to get up, to appear, like last time._

_"NO!" Draco knelt next to him shaking him. "POTTER! Not now! NO!"_

Hermione jolted awake, sweat rolling in beads down her face. She was breathing erratically, and her heart jumped as she saw Blaise kneeling before her, her forearms in his grip. From the light outside of the window she could see he was worried.

"I just got back, I thought I'd drop by here to see if you need anything." He wiped her forehead. "You were having a nightmare. You were screaming. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

She mouthed, "Harry," not sure if any sound came out. "Harry's dead..." There, sound came then, a croak. Her throat was sore as if she had been swallowing nails.

"I'm sure he's fine, Hermione. It was just a dream."

No, he wasn't understanding her. Harry was dead. She knew it, deep in her gut, in every fiber of her being. Her best friend was dead. "I need to see Ginny," she said with sudden strength in her voice. She pushed Blaise out of her way landing him on his back as she hurried to the fireplace.

He bounded to his feet following her. "Wait, Hermione, don't scare her. Potter's fine."

"No," she cried. "He's not fine. I _know_this, Blaise."

"You can't base your knowledge off of a dream!"

"Harry did!"

He placed himself in front of her blocking her way to the fireplace. "Potter was a tool of the Dark Lord -" He cut off short as she whipped her wand to his throat.

"Don't," she hissed, "ever mention Voldemort by that disgusting name, and don't you talk about Harry like you knew him. None of you knew him! I know what I saw, I know it was real. Get out of my way, or I will make you!"

His tone became soft once more. "Hermione... Let me take you. You're pregnant, you shouldn't Floo by yourself. I won't say anything more about Potter. Promise. But let me go with you."

She shoved her wand into her pocket, and took his hand. They ducked under the fireplace, and in a blaze went to Ginny's. It wasn't fast enough for Hermione's taste. Every second was a minute, and a minute was a lifetime.

When they arrived at her grate Hermione immediately let go of his hand, and ran out. Blaise's hand was outstretched ready to catch her if she fell, or ready to grab her to slow her down. Neither happened. She ran into the kitchen where she found Ginny in the corner, curled up, screaming in agony, Draco bending over her, his own face tear streaked.

She gasped, and Draco looked up somehow able to hear her above Ginny's sorrow. He leapt up opening the way for her. She got down on her knees, and took her friend in her arms. She rubbed her back as she felt warm tears soak the shoulder of her shirt. Her own throat closed up, her eyes burning with fierceness. They held onto each other as they were engulfed into the mouth of tragedy, the acidic taste burning holes into their hearts.

No one moved. No one said anything. The room filled with grief that it overflowed in rain. It pattered against the windows streaming down in rivers. The angels were crying.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Arrangements

A black casket... Harry's best robe... His wand... Shoes - Hermione almost forgot the shoes.

She was at Ginny's, in her bedroom to get his best ones which were rather hard to find, but she managed to see them in the back of the closet under a pile of worn Quidditch robes. The shoes looked brand new.

The house was empty, but strangely not very depressing. It actually sent comfort to Hermione while at the same time managing to shoot pangs through her. Harry's scent was still there in his clothes, his things sprawled about. It was almost like he was still there. She knew better, and that's what hurt.

Ginny was gone to the Burrow. She wouldn't step back inside the house since the night she heard the news. She never would again. One day if she ever felt better she would sell the house, or rather Hermione would. Hermione would pack their things in boxes. She would do everything like she was then.

Hermione bustled about the past three days putting together the arrangements. She went over all the necessary details in her head being certain that she didn't forget anything. If she happened to miss something there was a slip of paper she carried in her pocket. She alone was doing it all.

Ginny was distraught into a zombie mode, and Ron was away burying himself in his work. She knew that he was going after Harry's murderers, and no one was going to stop him, least of all her, but she couldn't bother them to help her if that was the only way they could handle Harry's death.

Everyone asked to let them do it. Neville even volunteered to do it all himself. She told all of them the same thing, that she appreciated it, but she wanted - needed to do it on her own.

They all could grieve in their separate ways. Luna could put up beetle-like bugs in her house to help Harry's spirit to pass, Mr. Weasley could organize his spark plug collection, Mrs. Weasley could cook for everyone she knew, George could stay in his joke shop, Ginny cold go numb, Ron could seek revenge, and she could do what was needed.

After sending the clothes to the funeral home she came back to clean. She didn't want to go home just then, it was still early and she wanted to be by herself.

When she cleaned as much as was possible Hermione took a clean shirt of Harry's off a hanger in the closet. She sat on the bed and brought it to her nose. It was the closest way to be to him. It blotched with her tears. She trained her mind not to see what others would have. She wouldn't see his death. She didn't know how she dreamed it, or why, and no one dared asked her. She wouldn't talk about it anyhow.

She rocked on the bed inhaling the aroma of wood polish. She missed her brother. Like the Weasley boys he was as close to a brother as she would ever have. And he was gone, like Fred.

She wailed a good twenty minutes in the most pain she allowed herself. She thought of the jokes he told, his laughter, everything. Everything but his death.

In Harry's fashion she took Muggle transportation to and from the funeral home. She came home to find Blaise over the cooker, the sweet smell of supper wafting in the air making her mouth water.

"Where's Draco?"

"Upstairs," he answered. "How did it go?"

She shrugged, but with his back to her he didn't see it. "Fine. It's all finalized. There's nothing left to do." Blaise had to hear the underlining meaning to it as it rung clear. She as good as said, "I have to face it now."

"You won't be alone," he said. "We'll all be here for you."

"I know," she muttered. "What smells so good?"

"Stew." He held up a spoonful, blowing softly on it before offering it to her.

She took a taste, the warmth filling her from the inside out. "Mmm, that's good." She spotted the second pot boiling. "What's that?"

"A second batch for Draco."

Hermione nodded. She knew it was a light sleeping draught. Draco hadn't rested since Harry's death. She would hear him in the night rustling around papers he took home from the Ministry. He re-organized the bookshelf in the lounge, the magazines on the coffee table, and finally gave another try to mowing the lawn leaving large patches of dirt. She didn't ask him how it happened. In fact she didn't talk to him at all thinking he needed time. It was wearing thin. She was sick of the silence, and Blaise was sick of having his only job (cleaning) taken away from him.

She kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Blaise. For everything."

"Don't tell him."

"I won't," she promised leaving the kitchen to go down the hall to their bedroom.

At the desk Draco was leaning on the last two legs of the chair. He stared out the darkening window, his lovely gray eyes lined with dark circles somewhere far off. He didn't budge when she gently pushed his chair forward, and propped herself against the desk, her hands on her slightly protruding stomach.

"Draco," she finally said after a long moment of silence. "It's not your fault."

"I know it isn't," he responded dryly.

She tried a different approach. "He wouldn't blame you."

"He shouldn't.

"It was an accident."

"Right."

She groaned feeling as though she was getting nowhere. "Then what is it?!"

He glared, "that's what it is! I don't feel any of the things I'm supposed to. Damn it," he stood kicking the chair over. Hermione didn't even blink. "After all the bloody years I spent wishing him dead - even after he gave me my ruddy job when no one else would hire me..." He took a strangling breath. "I hate the bastard for dying. I hate him leaving you! For leaving Weasel in charge of the department. For everything!"

Hermione was calm. She was expecting this to happen. Since the night he cried in Ginny's kitchen he showed no emotion. She was waiting for the explosion. She was actually relived that he was feeling _something_ at all.

"You feel guilty for hating him."

"I feel guilty for that," he tugged at his hair, "and for not getting there in time."

"You did what he told you."

"He KNEW that they would be guarding the front door. He KNEW that if the were going to kill it would him _him_. He has lived an admirable life that son-of-a-bitch. I haven't! If anyone should have died, it should have been me!"

"Survivor's guilt," she assessed pushing herself from the desk she put her arms around him. He fell easily into her giving in.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be, I'm glad. I was afraid that you'd never let it out." She kissed his neck as he rubbed her back.

"If I close my eyes I might see him."

She kissed his lips. "Close your eyes, and see me. How do you think I sleep? I see you. I don't see what happened to him. It's not the way he'd want it. For either of us."

"Do you blame me?"

"It wasn't your fault Draco. It wouldn't have mattered who was there it would have happened." Tears fell, and tenderly he wiped them away. "I just... Miss him terribly."

"I know you do. And... Kill me if anyone finds this out, but I miss him too."

"I'll tell Ron to go easy on you."

"It's not him that I'm worried about."

"I'll be fine."

"Will you?"

"It's not like I'll never see him again."

He smiled running his thumb over her brow. "Lets hope it won't be soon. I can't handle it if you go too."

She squeezed him tighter. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. I'd never leave you."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Her World

In Godric's Hollow, beside the graves of his parents Lily and James Potter, was their only child, their son Harry Potter.

Hermione didn't look at the stone. She couldn't bring herself to read the harsh words etched in, but she was acutely aware of everything around her, the slight wind harsh on her exposed skin, the sun burning her wet eyes. Like inside, she was raw.

Hermione stood between Blaise and Draco both of their hands holding hers. Ginny was across from her with her family. George and Ron were on either side of her holding her up as her body wracked falling apart. Ron stared straight ahead. Not at her, but into nothingness. He was numb. He wasn't feeling, and though Hannah held his shoulder in comfort he didn't seem to be feeling that either.

Every one of the Weasley's were there grieving like they lost a son, a brother, a lover as they truly did. Neville comforted Luna who no longer looked dreamy, but horribly sad, comforting him the way he was her, but it was in no way physical, just purely, but noticeably mental. It was odd as they stood next to each other, clasping hands showing no real signs of it, but it was clear as day.

Hagrid blew into his table sized handkerchief with the sound of an old breaking down monster truck. McGonagall had even shown crying delicately, properly. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were there too as were loads others. All of them wearing black as was customary at a funeral.

No one wanted to say anything either for the reason that they couldn't control the chords of their voice, or that they knew of nothing to say to do Harry justice. In Blaise and Draco's case it was merely because they weren't worthy to speak of it. Even she would agree that they weren't. Hermione however, couldn't let it go without anything being said. Harry deserved something. She stepped up, placing her hand on the casket. It sent a wave on her threatening to drown her, but she kept it there, and kept her mind off of the body inside. She had to do it, she had to do something.

"Harry was known as a lot of things," she said steadily. "He was known as the savior of the Wizarding world, as a son, brother, and friend. As everything," she glanced at Ginny, then away to the casket she pretended to be empty. "He was known as a fraud, a liar, an attention-seeker. A hero nonetheless. To me, he was my friend, my brother. Today won't be the day I'll hold most clearly of him. This day isn't worthy compared to all of the others I have of him. I remember the forfeited look he got every time Ron beat him in chess. Which was often. I was never good at chess. He told me that it was good for me to lose once in a while. I don't recall what I said to him, but I remember how he laughed. On behalf of him I ask that you don't recollect this day in your memory of him. Remember him as he was. He was strong, funny, sweet, with the greatest heart I know. I really love him," her voice finally broke, and she saw that as the time to stop. She stepped back, Blaise and Draco taking her hands again. She held onto them tightly, afraid that if she let go she would drown.

People slowly started to filter out. Whispered sympathies were given, hugs, and more tears shared. Hermione was oblivious to it all staring at the glossy shine of the casket reflecting the sky. It was a light blue. It wasn't the right feeling for a funeral. It should've been raining like the day he died. There should've been lightening, and ferocious thunder. It shouldn't have been pretty. Eventually she realized that everyone had left but her, Ginny, Ron, Draco, and Blaise.

"Go on," she told her husband and the father of her child. "I'll meet up with you there."

"Mrs. Weasley cooked a good meal, I heard. You should eat," Blaise advised.

"Give me time here." She couldn't leave Ginny, and Ron. She never would. If they ever needed her it was then.

Draco nodded, kissing her ear. "Okay. Take as much time as you need." He left her side dragging Blaise by his arm forcefully behind him out of the gate of Godric's Hollow Cemetery. She could hear small complaints behind her, but she paid them no heed, her sight on her friends.

They were sitting by the casket, Ron's arm over his sister. They didn't look to the casket, or to each other, but at the grass staining the knees of their attire. She sat on Ginny's other side resting her arm over Ron's. There as the broken trio, and the lover of the leader, they mourned. Being with them made it easier to take. It was as though each of their broken hearts was laid out in front of them, and they were matching up the pieces as best as they could, corresponding in the others pain, sharing it, and taken the gentler force of it. The blunt of it would come at night when they went over the day's activity, and realize with terrible clarity that they attended their friends funeral. It was a good thing that Ginny was staying with her parents and brothers. She would have company in the time where Harry would normally be with her.

Then the worst thing that could happen, happened. Hermione felt wetness between her legs, a cramp in her stomach. "Oh," she exclaimed in shock clutching her gut. It couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it," Ron asked alarmed while Ginny looked at her hazily.

She didn't want to say the words, but that wouldn't make them less true. "My water just broke."

Ron became beat red. "Damn, Hermione, you pick now of all times?"

"I'm so sorry, Ron," she spat grimacing as another pain overtook her, "next time I'll try to plan it more conveniently for everyone!"

Ginny helped her up with a little struggle. "Ron, go get Zabini and Malfoy." When he didn't move seemingly frozen in place by fear, her eyes fired dangerously. "Hurry!"

Ron scrambled away, and Ginny attempted to move her in baby steps towards the gate. In seconds Ron appeared back with Blaise and Draco. They ran towards her grabbing her arms relieving Ginny of the weight. All of them except Ginny and Draco were panicked, trembling.

"I'll apparate," Draco told them. "Weaslette, tell the others where we're at. If they want to come they can meet us there."

"You know they'll want to," she said, her tears drying. "I'll go now, come on Ron."

Another sharp pain attacked her abdomen, and she doubled over, her jaw shut tight in order to keep her screams in her throat. She was apparated to St. Mungo's then. Her contraction lasted through to the delivery room, and into the bed. It took them at least three minutes for that. Everything was a blur to her, sight, smells, none of it mattered, but for the pain to stop.

She blacked out.

When Hermione woke it was to severe pain. Her stomach hurt, her legs hurt, everything was causing her head to spin. She focused on the lovely cries she heard of her baby. She looked to Draco his gaze set on her, at once he said, "you were good, so very good, Hermione." Next to him was Blaise with her baby coddling it against his chest holding its tiny fingers in his larger ones.

"Baby," she breathed out.

Blaise smiled down at her, handing her the baby swathed in a light blue blanket. She gave a weak grin, but she was exploding on the inside with happiness. "Brynlee," she declared. "My baby Brynlee." He was handsome, tufts of curly black hair, dark chocolate eyes, and tiny fingers curling around her finger. It was amazing the feeling inside of her. The baby meant everything to her, the little boy was the center of her world. It was easy to believe that he was the reason for the letter, for marrying Blaise. For everything. Her world was back where it belonged, better than it had been before it crumbled.

She kissed his forehead. It was all she could do, she was fading, she could feel it. "Take him."

Blaise immediately scooped him in his arms, but stared worriedly at her. "Hermione?"

Draco felt her head, and cursed. "She's burning up. Get the Healer."

She reached for Draco's hand, and there it was gripping hers. She sighed, "I love you. All three of you. My boys."

"Hermione," he pleaded. "Stay here."

Her world - Draco, Blaise, and Brynlee - went into a blur. She closed her eyes, her head and heart slowing.

"Hermione, stay with me!"

She wished she could. She wanted to so badly. She wanted so much, but couldn't ask for anything not when she was given so much.

Hermione remembered that night with clarity. The night the Muggle electricity went out, and she was lighting every candle they owned. It was the night the letter came that changed her life forever. Somehow she couldn't fathom still being upset about it. That letter took away her freedom, but it gave everything she didn't know to ask for.

Things didn't go her way, but how could you care when you have everything, how can you be selfish and ask to stay a little longer? It was better to let go.

"Hermione! Hermione," Draco's hectic voice faded to Harry's who greeted her sadly. "Hermione..."

A/N: There's an epilogue left.


	19. Chapter 19

Epilogue

It had been seven years since Hermione's passing. Draco could barely believe it even though he saw it. He was there every step from feeling her chest in hopes of a heartbeat, to planning the funeral with Blaise, to watching her being lowered into the unforgiving Earth.

A lot had changed that day as it always did when someone died, but her and Harry's death set a catalyst of things into motion that none of them saw coming. None of them would expect.

Ginny with the loss of her boyfriend, and best friend bonded with the person that lost the girl that never loved him the way he wanted. Blaise and her healed each other as best as they could, and three years when the wounds were scars they married. They were a sickeningly loving couple who were constantly on him for never dating.

Some things didn't change, her death only sent him in a spiral of a pain that turned into an ache, and remained so. He didn't care to let any other girl fill the place only she could. He watched her son grow up, involved in his life as much as any second father could be, and let that be enough. He would wait until the day he would die to feel true happiness again. He didn't want it any other way, and he said this with conviction every time Ginny reminded him of the others who have moved on.

Ron married Hannah two years after Potter's funeral. Two years after Hermione's death. Neville, and Luna married a month later.

He would never marry. Why bother? No woman was going to touch Hermione's place with him, and there wasn't room enough for an extra seat.

Every day after work Draco spent a couple of hours at Blaise and Ginny's. On the weekends Brynlee stayed with him. It was a screwed up custody considering Brynlee wasn't his, not by blood, but he was Hermione's. He had her gorgeous brown eyes, her smile, and attitude. Draco thrived on that, it kept him going when nothing else did. Thus the screwed up custody worked.

"Uncle Draco," Brynlee yelled out the second Draco walked into the Zabini Manor. The tyke tackled him around the waist looking up to him with those expressive brown eyes.

"Hey, Brynlee," he greeted sadly, not able to put the enthusiasm he meant into it. "Happy birthday." He then nodded to Blaise and Ginny reclining together on the sofa, "hi."

"Hi."

"Here you go," he handed Brynlee the thin, long wrapped box he had tucked under his arm. "Go on, and open it." He at next to Blaise watching as the boy plopped down in front of them on the floor ripping the paper.

"The others have been here I see," Draco nodded towards the pile of opened presents in the corner.

"How lucky that you missed them again," Ginny said sarcastically.

The Longbottoms, and Weasley's spent Brynlee's birthday with him every year. Draco always came shortly before Brynlee's bedtime to insure that he didn't run into them. One day they all would trick him into spending it with them, but for then he had escaped another birthday. It wasn't that he hadn't come to tolerate them, it was simply because it was too hard to be around them. Hermione was constantly on his mind, and some days it drove him to near insanity. He couldn't bear to be with her friends, it might push him over the edge.

"Wow," Brynlee exhaled taking out the latest toy broom. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

"Can I go outside and try it out, please dad?"

Blaise shook his head. "It's too late. Tomorrow."

"Aw, okay." He placed the broom back into the box. "Uncle Draco, will you tell me a story about mum?"

Draco smiled. Every year he told him a different story about Hermione. The adventures she had in Hogwarts, including the time she smacked him, though he lied about the reason behind it. He believed he told him that he was simply being a jerk, when he was in fact being more than that. It had become tradition, and their way of remembering the reason behind the day, the good memories on a bleak anniversary.

"Can I pick," he asked eagerly.

"What do you want to hear?"

"How did she die?"

Draco exchanged a worried-filled glance with Blaise and Ginny. They all knew the day would come when he would ask, but they hoped it would be a couple of more years.

"Chap, I think that's a story for another birthday."

"No, I want to hear it."

Draco coughed nervously leaning his elbows on his knees. It was against his better judgment, but it had to be told sometime. He would edit though. "When you were born... Your mum was called away by angels. She had done this world as much good as she could, there was nothing left for her to do."

Brynlee bit his lip. The way Hermione used to do when she felt anxiety. "What about me?"

Blaise shifted sitting beside him, a hand on his son's head. "that's what we're here for. You see, your mum has nothing to worry about. You have us."

"But I want her here."

Draco narrowed his eyes to keep from tearing up. He desperately didn't want to have the conversation. "We do too."

Brynlee's lip now released from his teeth was trembling. "If I pray hard enough, will she come back?"

The remainder of his heart was wrenched out. "She's here... You don't know how much you look like her."

"Really?"

"Really," Blaise promised.

Ginny stood, and brought Brynlee to his feet. "It's time for bed."

"Oh, Mum, do I have to?"

"Yes, you do. Now, up you trot. I'll be up in a moment to tuck you in."

"Five more minutes?"

"No, Brynlee, and if you ask again so help me -"

"Okay, okay!" He hugged Draco fleetingly, and ran up the staircase behind the sofa.

"Don't run in the house!"

"Yes, mum!"

Ginny and Blaise shared a proud grin. Draco looked away, then realized he didn't have to stay. He got up, but Ginny as usual stopped him before he got to the door.

"Thank you for the present, Draco."

"You're welcome, Ginny." When did he started using her given name...? Blaise's wedding. He could feel Hermione's smugness about it, and in return it made him feel better.

"You can stay if you like. You don't have to go home alone."

"I won't be alone. I have a date."

Blaise, and Ginny didn't respond. They knew what he meant.

He took a moment as he always did to admire the painting above the door in a solid gold frame. The special one out of the hundreds of mediocre in the room. A beautiful brunette standing on a balcony her hair blowing by the wind, her smile cheerful, her eyes sad, a gondola in the distance making it's way down the river. His wife on her original honeymoon.

It was ironic. The day before her honeymoon was the day he was certain that he lost her forever, all because of a stupid law. He didn't know their ultimate doom was on the horizon, also caused by that stupid law. A catalyst like it was all supposed to happen, as if fate had conspired that his life should have been miserable.

That night in their old home where yellow Tulips he personally grew outlining the exterior, Draco wrote to Hermione, like he did every year.

_Hermione,_

_Another year has passed. Brynlee is growing up fast. He looks like you. Gorgeous. He finally asked about your death. I could tell that it hurt Blaise and Ginny. It hurt me too._

_It's always hard these days. I want to tell him the good memories, but he asked about your passing. I couldn't tell him the truth, but I couldn't lie to him. I told him you had done your job here. True enough to sustain him another year._

_Another year... Without you... Brynlee's a gift, but it's selfish of me to wish for you instead. I remain a horrible person, and I'm sorry for that, but I know I love that kid. He's my life now. The only part of you I have left._

_I love you. I wait for the day until we can be together. I'll hug, and kiss you, I'll show you how much I've missed you. For now, I'll stay. For your son. Our son. For Blaise's sanity. And because Weasley cannot possibly run the Auror department without me._

_Your Husband, Love, Best Friend, Draco_

He folded it, and slid it into the second desk drawer to the left with the others.

A/N: This wasn't meant to have a tragic ending or go so far off course from the beginning but like most of my stories it went out of my hands. I'm sorry if any of you are disappointed, but thank you for reading this and reviewing if you can.


End file.
